


Have you Even Tried to Stop

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apocalypse, BAMF Sam, Background Zachariah, Big Brother Gabriel, Dark Dean, Dean is a dick, Dubious Consent, Episode: s05e14 My Bloody Valentine, Episode: s05e16 Dark Side of the Moon, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Eventual Sastiel, Friendship/Love, Heaven vs Hell, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Lucifer - Freeform, Lucifer is a Little Shit, M/M, Plot Twists, Plotty, Protective Sam Winchester, Violent Dean, Wandering Plot, no promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean did have a hunger caused by Famine.<br/>And Sam was the one to save Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tease

"I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something. Sex, attention, drugs, love... and then famine came, and made them _rabid_ for it.

Something twisted in Dean's stomach.  In one second, he understood what this implied for both him and Sam.

He felt dizzy.  

He didn't want to think of the implications.

So instead he advanced on Castiel: "And since when do _angels_ secretly hunger for White Castle?" he sneered in that belittling way that always made him feel better. 

Cas looked a little ashamed.  It was adorable how taken aback he still was,  every time Dean did this to him. How hurt.   He practically sniffled as he explained that it was Jimmy's body.  Dean pressed it, but all the while he was thinking of  _his hunger, that ache under his skin for the touch, the look, the feel of_

"He will devour the souls of the victims."  And that stopped Dean's rumination, because Cas right now was on his way to becoming a victim and that terrifying thought stopped any other... concern.  

And besides, he was stronger than that.  He wouldn't give in.  He would never let his hunger consume him.

Not when he had the world to save. 

Dean was so caught up in thoughts,  he didn't notice Sam's shakiness, didn't notice the way he stumbled as he excused himself to the bathroom and left Dean alone with Cas.  

Dean paced, the tension in him mounting.  He watched the angel, sitting on Dean's bed like he belonged there, stuffing his mouth with tiny burgers. He had never seen the angel eat before, and it was with a mix of repulsion and arousal that he watched Cas passionately tear into the burger. The impulse came suddenly,  a flood of desire to rip the bag out of Cas' hands, push him down hard on the bed, and press his body against the angel's.  

Dean shook his head and made a snide comment about the Hamburglar instead.  

"Sam, let's go," Dean said, suddenly needing his brother beside him, some sort of buffer between him and Cas.  Cas could sit in the backseat and Dean would forget about him until he became useful again, and meanwhile him and Sam would be on their way to saving the world again.  Sam would help him. He had his back. 

Except when Sam came out of the bathroom, he looked worse than Dean felt. "I can't," he whispered, looking miserable.  

"What? Why?"

Sam looked down, biting his lip, ashamed of himself.  "You know," he said in a low voice, refusing to say it. 

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean sputtered with frustration.  He turned to Cas, asking for help, but once again the useless angel explained why there was nothing he could do. It was apparent he was surrounded by incompetent assholes.

In the end, it was Sam who decided.  Dean and Cas would go find Famine, and Sam would be handcuffed and locked in the bathroom.  

Dean begrudgingly helped Sam, wrapped the handcuffs around the sturdiest pipe they could find, and knelt down to look at his brother.  A flicker of emotions he couldn't place flickered across his face.  Disapproval, for one, that Sam still had that hunger.  Concern that he wouldn't be able to help himself. And Anger, that he was going to sit this one out because he was too weak, he was going to leave Dean alone.  With Cas. 

_you stupid dick_ he wanted to spit at Sam. But Sam looked so miserable,  staring at the floor with big watery eyes, dreaming of the demon blood and swallowing hard;  that Dean bit his tongue and only swore to himself quietly as he left. 

Cas pushed a shelf in front of the door and disappeared for a split second when they walked out of the motel.  By the time Dean got to the Impala, he was back with another damn bag of mini burgers. 

Dean drove to the hospital in silence,  listening to the near orgasmic sounds of Cas inhaling meat.  When he stopped at a light,  he took the chance to look critically over at him. 

"What?" Cas mumbled in between bites.

"I dunno,  man, " Dean said in a faux teasing voice. "I guess I just expected better of you."

Castiel froze at this,  his hands midair with the burger on its way to his open mouth.  Dean snickered,  turning away from him and easing onto the gas as the light turned green.

He heard Cas put the burger back down on the paper. It was still amazing to him how much control he had over the angel. They drove in silence for a moment. 

"I don't know how much I am, " Cas said softly after a moment.  "I... I'm losing so many of my powers.  I don't know what. .. " he trailed off.

Something jerked inside of Dean.  It bothered him that he couldn't identify it... Sympathy, or excitement. He didn't respond, not knowing how he could.

Cas was broken. And as much as he hated to admit it.. that excited him.

Intensely. 

Cas broke the spell by picking the hamburger up again.  In a flash of sudden anger,  Dean whipped the bag out of his hands.  Cas gaped and reached forward for the bag,  like some sort of lame zombie. 

"Get a fucking grip, dude, " Dean taunted,  almost laughing as Cas lunged over him,  trying to grab the bag back.  Dean elbowed Cas in the throat, rolled his window open, and threw the bag out.

Cas whimpered and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Don't!" Dean shouted, throwing his arm over Cas' chest and pressing against him. "Don't you fucking flitter off again to get more of those fucking burgers. You goddamn asshole."

Cas looked at him with those wide, terrified eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and hurt. "Why?" He asked.  "I really want them."

"Because you're a god damn weak son of a bitch," Dean spit out.  "Are you really this fucking pathetic?  That you can't even go one second without stuffing your face? "

This was one of the things that Dean would never understand. Why he was being so mean to Cas.  Because he hated how much he cared about him, and yet he could never get over the joy of hurting him.

Cas whimpered and looked out the window.  And there it was again. Dean smirked to himself as he felt the surge of power flood through him. Because here was a goddamn _angel_ who would stop his one desire, only because Dean told him to.

He pulled up to the hospital and clicked his belt off,  turning to Cas.  Cas was still sulking out the window. 

"Hey,  Cas, " Dean pushed. Cas stiffened,  did not respond.  "Hey." He poked Cas in the shoulder,  hard. "Are you?  Are you better than this? "

Cas slowly licked his lips, still not looking at Dean.  "No," he whispered,  hollow and shamed.  Dean smothered a smile.  Cas jerked the car handle,  and pulled himself out of the car. 


	2. The Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He only ever had seconds before Cas could be gone. If that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my thing is short chapters, because I'm impatient and want to post immediately. Sorry if that's not your thing, you might want to wait til a few build up if you're a binge-r. 
> 
> I'm dawdling to get to the main point, which should come in Chapter 3. After that, there will be much more action (and Sam.)

It was the little things.

The way Castiel walked slightly behind him as they made their way through the hospital corridor.

The inane way he spoke to people about Famine, as if he were some sort of idiot savant, and Dean just wanted to punch him in the neck.

And then, a second later, the way Cas pressed his palm against the doctor's corpse and sensed his soul, still lying there inside him.

Dean grimaced to himself as they walked back to the parking lot outside of the hospital. Cas was still mopey, and he could sense the angel hesitating, on the cusp of flitting off to get himself some more burgers, but still too cowed by Dean's reprimand to take off.

If only that could work. It was the one thing that made Dean feel powerless, helpless: Cas, flickering off, not returning, not answering when he called him, not coming. He felt the stultifying rage course through his veins as he envisioned Cas once again leaving him.

He only ever had seconds before Cas could be gone. If that.

Feeling suddenly panicked, Dean reached out behind him and took Cas' wrist in his strong grip.

Cas moved to pull back, started to speak, but Dean wrenched his arm around and slammed him against the Impala. Cas' mouth, still opened, fluttered as if to speak, but nothing came out. Dean advanced on him, pressing his arm across Cas' neck and pressing down firmly. Cas' hands flailed for a bit, hesitated to take Dean's arm, and then settled at his side. Like the obedient puppy that he was.

"You're going again," Dean told him.

He opened his mouth to protest. "I'll be right back-"

Dean shook his head. "You're such a little cunt."

Cas opened his eyes wide at that, tilted his head back, but couldn't come up with a fitting response. Dean chuckled to himself.

"And now you're so goddamn hungry. How does that feel? That hunger? You've never felt that before, have you."

Dean backed off a bit, because it looked like Cas was having trouble breathing, much less talking. He lifted his arm off of his neck and pressed it down lower, against his clavicle. Just to let him know who was still in charge.

Cas again floundered, unable to speak. Dean nudged him with his hips, as if to prompt him. It had the added benefit of giving him a chance to press his belly and groin against Cas'. It was an exhilirating feeling, and Dean had to press his lips together to stop the groan from escaping him. He had a growing erection pressing hard between them now.

If Cas felt it, he didn't say anything. He stumbled over his words, looking back, beyond Dean's head. "I've never felt it..." he whispered. "It's... strange, feeling this... desire. It's frightening."

Dean grinned to himself. He would be replaying those words over and over again in his head. "Describe it," he prompted.

Cas finally looked at him, straight in the eyes. "It's painful, and I've never felt that," he said in a low voice. "And then, when I give in to it..." he closes his eyes. "It feels so good. And I've never felt that."

Dean bit his lip. He pressed his dick against Cas, hard, and then pushed off of him, taking a few steps back. Cas opened him eyes to squint at him. What a dumbass.

"By all means, then," Dean said, gesturing off into the world. "Go get your burgers."

Cas stood still in front of him, eyes darting back and forth as if unsure what to do. Dean shrugged. Cas had the decency to look ashamed, and then he darted off.

  
*

  
Later, as Cas sat munching in the passenger's seat of the car as they waited for a man with a briefcase to emerge from the hospital, he had the nerve to ask Dean what his hunger was.

He had missed it.

And there it was again, because for all of his knowledge and power, he was such a dumb shit sometimes.

Dean snickered. "What hunger? I'm _well fed_." And he watched Cas' face, thoughtful and considering. "What would you think my hunger would be?" he goaded him with a smile. Some small part of him hoped Cas had enough awareness and insight to make the logical conclusion.

"Your father's love?" Cas guessed honestly.

Dean didn't see where his elbow came from. But it was an immediate impact, straight and hard into Cas' nose.

Cas dropped his burger, choked, and held his hand out to his nose, gaping at the blood that drained from it.

Dean gritted his teeth, twitched his jaw, looked away.  Cas looked at him in horror.

"Oh my fucking god," Dean snarled. "You're such a little bitch.  Like you've never bled before. You _died_."

Cas just watched him, his hand still lifted up to catch the blood like he thought he was some sort of martyr. "I'll fucking do it again," Dean grunted at him.

Cas sat back, in shock, not able to speak or move. It was fine, though, because as Dean smirked and scanned the hospital, a tall thin man walked out with the briefcase and got into a waiting car.

"We're on," Dean said, starting the car and looking over at Cas. He still hadn't moved. Dean didn't even try to suppress his smirk, and followed the car at some distance.

  
*

  
It was dark when they pulled up to the Biggerson's.  Cas was sitting still, looking out the window moodily. He hadn't cleaned his face or fixed his nose, and Dean wondered whether he was ignoring it because he was pouting, or because he was no longer able to. He had no idea what powers the fallen angel was capable of anymore.

"So what's the plan," he grunted at Cas, suddenly business.

"I go in, cut off his finger, and then come back," Cas said grumpily. He looked at Dean, but Dean was watching the restaurant.

"Fool-proof, man," Dean said sarcastically, but when he turned back, Cas was gone. "Fuckin' angels," he shifted in his seat.

He sat back and closed his eyes, remembering now the press of Cas' body against him. The catch in the angel's voice as he stuttered: _strange... this desire... frightening._ The crack in his nose when Dean elbowed him, and the blood dripping down into his open palm.

Dean rubbed himself with hunger, but it wasn't enough. He needed Cas. He craved it. And he wondered if that specificity was from Famine, because it wasn't just sex he wanted. It was Cas, stripped and naked and humiliated, Cas on his knees, Cas tied up and spread out and on his stomach.

This image shocked Dean a little. He jumped and opened his eyes, frantically searching the car and the outside, as if suddenly worried someone had peeked in on his fantasy, as if expected Cas to be there, crestfallen, and flittering away, for good this time.

And he couldn't stand to lose him and he wanted him so much and he felt like something was tearing him from the inside.

It had been five minutes. Much too long for Castiel's supposed plan. Dean sighed, and snapped the door open. He was going in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's conflicted. I don't know if this works or is confusing - his affection/anger/aggression/lust for Cas. I mean, it's supposed to be conflicted. But does it work? 
> 
> Thoughts are, as always, appreciated. :)


	3. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And suddenly there it was, a dark desire shooting down through his veins and it was a flood washing over him, and his hands trembled with an ache because he needed him, he needed Cas, and there was nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Dub/noncon Warning.  
> This chapter is the only one in this fic that qualifies as EXPLICIT***
> 
> This got a little rougher than I expected.

Dean found the back door unlocked, and slowly eased it open.  It led to a dark kitchen, only strange hissing noises to indicate anyone could be there. 

Dean carefully stepped into the kitchen, eyes darting around in a vain search for any signs of life.  His hands twitched,  and he realized he was breathing hard. Desire,  thick and craven,  filled him to the brim. He felt an inexorable ache,  a hollow in his chest and his whole body buzzed with an electric need for Cas.

He was suddenly the hunter,  on the prowl, in search for his next meal. 

A part of him thought of Sam, on the floor in the bathroom begging him _please hurry_ ; of Famine,  of people eating each other's faces, and of this guy,  currently chest deep in hot frying oil. Dean shivered,  sidestepped the former fry cook,  and continued through the kitchen. Nothing mattered besides Cas right now. 

And then there he was. 

Through the kitchen window,  on his knees in the diner,  hunched over a silver tray of what looked like raw meat. 

Dean shivered uncontrollably as he felt a wave of nausea and hatred pour through him.  Figures that Cas would ruin this moment.  He should have known. 

It only made him angrier,  but did nothing to quell the ache in his body. He scrambled to the kitchen door,  pushed through it,  and fell to his knees behind Cas. 

Took him by the hair and shoved him face first into the meat filled pan. 

Cas grunted with surprise,  but fell easily,  his arms giving in and dropping to his sides.  Dean snickered and ground his face deeper into the pan,  feeling the side of the pan pressing into Cas' neck. 

Let's play a game: does Cas need to breathe?

Dean snickered as he lowered himself down,  straddled Cas and pressed his dick against Cas' ass. Cas groaned into the meat;  there was no mistaking this time. Dean pressed even harder,  aching to feel Cas through their layers of clothes,  needing everything else to be gone. 

He gasped and let Cas' head go,  pulling him up by the hips and quickly unbuckling his belt from behind,  shoving his slacks and boxers off with one brusque jerk.  Cas, coughing and choking still, let out a sharp gasp.  Dean, encouraged,  tore the trench coat off of his small frame, spun him around and ripped the shirt off,  buttons popping and flying.  

He couldn't wait anymore.  He had to have him.

But when Dean finally looked up into  Cas' eyes, they were terrified and pleading. "Dean," he wheezed, and Dean realized he was breathing as hard as Dean was. "Please.  Don't do this."

Dean was panting himself.  He stared up at Cas with heavy eyes.  "I have to," he growled in a low voice,  and then knocked them both back down to the floor. 

Cas howled with pain as he landed on his broken nose,  giving Dean time to unzip himself and pull out his dick and rub it with his own saliva.  He kneed Cas' legs apart,  nestled himself between them,  and held Cas' hips firmly. 

"Oh God," he breathed,  looking down at the prone angel,  completely at his mercy.  "Jesus fucking Christ." And with no other warning,  he slammed into Cas.

Cas howled with pain,  a crazy,  inhuman shriek more reminiscent of his true voice when he first tried to speak to Dean. Dean groaned,  gasped, choked;  for a moment,  he was still,  reeling from the overwhelming sensation of being inside Cas.

Cas was heaving,  sobbing. "Dean," he whimpered.  "You can stop this."

"You could stop this," Dean hissed.  "You could zip on out of here,  any time." With that he eased out,  and then slammed back in.  Cas sobbed.  "So what does it mean that you haven't yet?"

Cas,  quietly,  pushed his torso off the floor and supported himself on his elbows.  He wheezed.  Dean paused, waiting. He leaned forward and brushed Cas' ear with his nose, buried his face in Cas' soft hair. 

"Tell me that you want this," Dean whispered.  Cas shivered,  didn't respond.  

It was around this time that someone shifted in the diner,  and Dean glanced up to see an old man in a wheelchair, surrounded by demons,  all standing back and watching them. 

 Dean grinned wildly,  turned back to Cas, and started moving at a slow, steady pace,  rocking into him. They were now both slick with blood,  and he reveled in it. 

Cas pressed his head against the floor and took it. 

It only encouraged Dean.  Cas' compliance only enforced his beliefs.  Cas could leave if he wanted to.  Cas was here of his own volition.  Cas obeyed because it was Dean,  and Cas would do anything for Dean.  Even this.

Dean was lost.  He was on a higher level.  So much so,  he had forgotten about the audience,  forgotten about Sam,  didn't hear the door slam open,  the heavy,  angry footsteps coming towards them,  didn't sense anything 

Until a huge hand slammed into his face,  knocking him down across Cas,  and then strong arms yanked him to his feet and dragged him away and he felt so cold without Cas on his dick. 

 It was Sam, raising him up,  and  _when did Sam get so strong?_ and then he threw him across the room, Dean stumbling and knocking over chairs as he tumbled down to the floor. 

"Sam-" Dean started, and it meant to be a plea but it came out darker, angrier,  and Sam didn't stop to listen but knelt by him,  pulled him up by the shoulders and punched him square in the face. 

Famine,  in the wheel chair,  tittered and clapped his hands in delight. 

Cas, hunched over still,  grabbed his trench coat and wrapped it over himself as he scooted back, underneath a booth table.  They all watched Sam lean over and punch Dean in the face repeatedly,  until he stood up and kicked him in the ribs,  then very pointedly in the dick. 

Dean howled with pain and Cas couldn't stop himself,  he leaned out from under the table and yelled "Sam, stop! You're hurting him! "

Sam glowered at Cas and raised one finger.  "Shut the hell up,  Cas," he threatened.  Cas disappeared back under the table. 

Sam turned back to Dean in the floor,  his face smashed and bleeding,  holding his crotch and whimpering like a little bitch. Sam spit on him in disgust,  and then turned to Famine.

 "So what are we doing here?" Sam challenged Famine and his posse of demons.  "Yall want to start,  or are you just here to watch the show?"

Two of the demons started towards him,  but Famine stopped them. 

 "Sweet Sam," he warbled. "Did you get my gift?"

Sam narrowed his eyes at him,  but didn't answer.  He suddenly had no patience for this. 

"I have more treats for you," Famine gestured at his current demons,  who started. "You won't die from drinking too much.  You're the exception.  Just like Lucifer wanted."

 Sam shook his head in disgust and instead leaned back, closed his eyes,  and started to exorcise the souls of all the demons at once. 

From under the table,  Cas watched.  He saw Dean's foot twitch and he backed up into the booth again.  He knew he should help Sam somehow,  but couldn't think.  He was useless and powerless and scared;  but worse of all, still hungry.  He wanted that meat out on the floor,  and his hunger almost negated his fear.  But he couldn't go out there. He wrapped his  trench coat tighter around himself. 

Famine looked impressed as Sam expelled the last demon.  "I'll take them if you don't want them," he conceded, and inhaled the black smoke.

Dean drew his head up in a daze,  his eyes still frantically searching for Cas.  He was still burning that he hadn't been able to finish.  He needed him,  and now.  

But they both stopped and watched as Sam steeled himself and raised his hand,  and how Famine laughed that he wouldn't work on him. 

And clever Sam,  but somehow he found the demons just consumed,  and they burst from Famine in a giant explosion of dark swirls,  and in the mad gusts, both Cas and Dean felt a soft release shift inside them,  and Cas gasped, a muffled sob, while Dean lay,  staring at the ceiling,  feeling the slow burn of horror take over his body. 

Sam, for his part, leaned over and choked with the exertion of exorcism.  After a moment,  he roughly walked over to Dean and placed a foot on his moving right wrist. 

Dean looked at him in confusion and embarrassment.  He had only wanted to put his dick away.  

"Keys," Sam said curtly,  and reached down to fish through Dean's pocket for them. 

Dean started protesting when Sam plucked them from his pocket,  but Sam twisted his foot on Dean's wrist.  Dean howled with pain. 

"Shut the fuck up," Sam snapped. "I'm taking the car,  and I'm taking Cas, and we're going to Bobby's." He started to move away,  but paused.  "If you have the balls to try and follow us, " he warned, "well.  You won't for very much longer."

He stepped off and Dean groaned,  rolled over on to his side. Sam walked over to Cas' table and knelt down. 

"Cas," he said,  and suddenly his voice was softer,  gentler.  He reached slowly toward Cas,  who shivered in the dark.  "Cas, it's going to be okay.  Come with me."

Cas, his face slick with tears,  sat unmoving,  staring at him.  Sam sighed,  lowered his hand.  "I know," he said to the unasked. "But you're going to be okay.  I will take care of you. Please.  Trust me."

Dean,  curled in a fetal position,  burned at these words.  He turned to watch the two men,  but by that time they had both disappeared. 

He lay in the empty diner, amongst the demon and horsemen corpses, and felt his entire soul collapse. 

 


	4. The Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cas are awkward.

They appeared outside the Impala, and Cas collapsed.

Sam caught him before he hit the ground, propped him against the car and held his face. "Cas?" He crowed, gently tapping his face. He lifted up an eyelid and all he could see was white.

Frantic with worry but not knowing what else he could do, Sam eased Cas into the front passenger seat of the car, and struggled to hold him up while he pulled the seat belt across the angel's chest. His hands shook as he tried to clasp the buckle. He knew he didn't have that much time. Bobby's place was about an hour away. He hoped he could make it.

He stopped at a Gas-n-Sip to pick up supplies for his self-imposed internment: beef jerky, sandwiches, chips, peanut butter, and three large jugs of water. After loading up the trunk, he slid into the cab and was surprised to see Cas stirring.

"Cas," he said warmly. Cas raised his head up and look up at him with doleful eyes. "Here," he said, offering the small water bottle he had bought for himself.

Cas slowly shook his head. "I'm an angel," he said, so low Sam almost couldn't hear him. "I don't need to drink water."

Sam matched his look, not lowering his hand. "Well," he said, "why don't you just give it a try? It couldn't hurt. You need something."

Cas looked down at the water, crestfallen, and finally took the water from Sam. He unscrewed the top and then drank down the entire bottle in one long gulp.

Sam watched him in silence, his mind racing. It was getting difficult to think; the cravings were rising again inside of him, and his blood stirred. Finally he turned away and pulled the car out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" Cas asked after a heavy silence.

"I thought we'd go to Bobby's," Sam said, looking over at Cas to gauge his reaction. There was none. "It's close. And, um..."

"You're going to need the panic room."

"Right." Sam's jaw twitched and he gripped the wheel tighter.

Cas looked out the window and didn't say anything.

They were pulling off the highway when Sam finally got the focus to ask: "Cas, why... why haven't you healed yourself?"

Cas looked at him, unaware. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you've got blood all over your nose. You're still... in just your trenchcoat. Is there a reason why you haven't... I don't know, can't you fix yourself up?"

Cas looked down at his trenchcoat and suddenly self-consciously tightened it around him. He realized he didn't have pants or shoes on. He grunted in response.

"Cas... you passed out when you flew us to the car. Are you okay?"

Cas looked out the window again, sullenly. Sam felt like an ass mentioning it.

"I don't know," Cas finally said, long after Sam thought the conversation was over.

Sam gritted his teeth and drove on.

He had texted Bobby, who replied he was out on a hunt but they could let themselves in. As they pulled into the salvage yard, Sam turned to Cas and touched him on the shoulder. Cas flinched, and Sam quickly drew back.

"Cas," he said. "I'm not doing so well. I need you to lock me into the panic room."

"I know," Cas said moodily. Sam waited. "And what about me?"

"I'm going to get you set up," Sam said. "There's a room upstairs, and a bathroom for you to get cleaned up. I bought food,"

"I don't need food."

Sam sat quietly, not responding for a moment. But his pulse raced; he couldn't delay much longer. He didn't want to get to the point of no return.

The thought made him swallow hard.

"Of course you don't," he said, starting to pat Cas on the leg but stopping midway and patting the gear shift awkwardly instead.

He climbed out of the car and grabbed his bags and one of the waters. "Could you help me here?" Cas sulkily grabbed two of the waters and Sam led them up to the house.

They dropped the supplies off at the top of the basement stairs, and then Sam showed Cas upstairs. He grabbed his backpack and pulled out a spare pair of pants, boxers, and a shirt for Cas. He even found the new toothbrush he had brought to replace his old one. He laid all of this out on the bed in the spare bedroom.

"The bathroom is down the hall," he said, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He tapped his fingers impatiently. "Are... you good?" He asked Cas, who looked down at the items on the bed.

Cas, again, took his time to respond. But this time it was only a soft "no," and suddenly Sam's impatience flickered away.

It was funny how he could push it aside when he needed to.

"Cas," he said softly, and he leaned forward and pulled the angel into a hug.

Cas didn't flinch this time, didn't pull away as Sam wrapped his arms around him. He stood still for a moment, and then rested his face in Sam's chest, letting out a muffled cry.

"I don't know how to do this," he sobbed. "I don't know how to bathe and dress myself. I don't know what to do with _that_ ," he pointed at the toothbrush. "And I can't do this... Sam, I know I tell you you're an abomination..."

"What? You've never said that."

"I didn't? Oh. I just thought it."

Sam sighed and made a face that Cas couldn't see. Still, he held onto him, knowing that he needed it.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I said that. Not after everything you've..." Cas choked back a sob again.

"Shh," Sam said, rocking Cas back and forth. "You're okay."

"I don't know how to do this without you right now. I'm scared. I need you."

Sam grimaced. "I know. I'm sorry. But I can't be out right now. I won't be myself in a second. I don't want to put you in danger."

"The demon blood?"

"Yeah," Sam said, feeling pretty low.

"I think I can buy you sometime on that."

"What? How?"

"Angel blood?"

Sam reactively pushed Cas back immediately. Cas had the decency to look ashamed. "Angel blood?" he snapped. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Cas looked down, fidgeting with the sleeves of his coat. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm just trying to be helpful."

"Cas, you don't have to be helpful," Sam said a little too sharply. Cas looked up at him curiously. Sam sighed and rubbed his face. "You don't have to be our saviour all the time. You don't have to make yourself useful. You're hurting, and _you_ need help. You're a friend, and I want to be there for you."

"Dean said I'm useless."

"Yeah, well Dean can be pretty freakin' useless himself. But we all forgive him, because- " Sam stopped mid-sentence, realizing what he said. Cas stared dumbly back at him. Sam tried to divert back to the main point. "You're a friend," He explained patiently. "You can be useless, and we will still take care of you. You're family."

Cas cocked his head, looking at Sam in wonder. Sam shook his head, feeling embarassed about the whole conversation. "Look," he said, taking the clothes and the toothbrush. "I'll help you."

What followed was an even more embarassing pantomine of how to take a shower, wash one's hair, use a washcloth, dry off, get dressed, and use a toothbrush. Sam even got his old toothbrush to model for him.

"No, don't squirt a whole glob of toothpaste in your mouth. What's wrong with you? Did you see me do that? NO. I said, a pea-sized amount-" Sam scolded him as they went through brushing your teeth. Cas stuck out his tongue in disgust, a huge glob of toothpaste sliding out of his mouth. "Spit that out, man," Sam said roughly.

Cas spit it out and looked ashamed.

"Please, man, stop with the puppy dog face. I can't deal with it." Sam put his toothbrush down and rubbed his face. "Ugh.  I'm so sorry, Cas, but I've got to go. I can feel it. I'm about to explode."

Cas followed Sam down to the panic room, helping him carrying the supplies once again. Once Sam had gotten settled, he looked back at Cas. "Are you going to be okay?"

"What if Dean comes back?" Cas asked.

"Then you let me out, and I'll straight up kill him." Sam snapped.

"What happened to forgiveness?"

Sam sat on the bench and covered his face. He couldn't deal with any of this right now. "I don't know, man. What do you think? Some things are unforgivable."

Cas stood in the doorway of the panic room, holding onto the door. He looked out into the darkened basement. "Can I stay outside here?" he asked.

"Of course. But it would be more comfortable in a bed."

"I don't need to sleep."

"Okay," Sam nodded to himself. He slid down to lie down on his back, and took a deep breath. "I apologize in advance for all the things I might yell, though."

Cas nodded. "I forgive you," he said. And then he closed the door and locked it behind him.


	5. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cas, less awkward.
> 
> ...and then Dean.

After a long time, Dean pulled his legs up, zipped his pants back up, and stood shakily. He slowly surveyed the room: the corpses of the demons, Famine hunched over in his wheelchair. Cas' clothes were strewn across one of the booths.

Dean swallowed hard, feeling a weight in the pit of his stomach. Sam had taken the Impala, and Cas. And as much as that annoyed him, he couldn't fault his brother. He would have done the same. He picked up the pieces of clothing, feeling miserable, and wrapped them into a ball.  Somehow in there, he found the awareness to pull Famine's ring off his finger.  

It took him an hour to walk back to the motel. He took a long, hot shower, scrubbing his face, his body, hard, as if trying to burn off the taint of his crimes.

When he finally fell into bed, he could feel the swell of exhaustion over him. Still, he grabbed his phone, skimmed through the contacts, and stopped at Sam.

He would be detoxing right now.

He scrolled back up to Cas and hesitated on his name. What could he say? He opened a text message and started typing: Cas I don't

he couldn't get any farther than that. He put his phone down, tears streaming down his face, and pulled the covers over him, hoping to succumb to the darkness of sleep.

*

Cas huddled into a sitting position outside the door of the panic room. Sam's shrieks and screams had come to a swell; he could hear thuds and clatter inside. It sounded like a war was going on. For some reason, Cas felt dizzy and sick. He touched his face and was surprised that his fingers came away slick with tears.

"Why am I crying?" he asked no one in particular. He almost wished Dean were there, to explain things for him. Or Sam. But it was his screams that made Cas feel so bad. He stood up shakily and peered through the window to watch Sam.

He had been going for a while. Right now, he stopped mid-pace, and seemed to slump into himself.

Cas wondered. Sam had told him he didn't have to be helpful. He was hurting and Sam wanted to help him. But this wasn't helping. Cas was alone and scared and sad. He wanted to be with Sam right now. And if he was right, he could help Sam - and himself - right now.

Cas pulled back the long sleeve - Sam's clothes were much too big for him - and bared his wrist. Before he could think things through, he leaned over and bit his skin, hard, right over the vein.

He yelped and faltered; he hadn't expected it to hurt that much. Cringing, he used his good right hand to turn the lever and let himself into the panic room.

Sam was on the floor, convulsing. Cas closed the door behind him, and knelt down next to Sam. Sam, dazed, lolled his head over to watch Cas blearily. "Cas..." he murmured, raising his hand and tracing along the sleeve of his own shirt.

Cas gritted his teeth, holding his left wrist, and lowered it down to Sam's mouth. Sam, surprised, flinched at first, and then licked his lips and raised his head, hungry for it. In his confusion, he thought it was demon's blood. Cas could see the initial shock as he drank, the wonder as he tasted Cas' blood, and then his eyes rolled back, he clutched Cas' arm to him with two hands, and deeply drank it in.

Cas didn't know what he had expected, but he was surprised at this reaction. He fell down to the his side, laying beside Sam as he sucked his blood down. Cas watched him stoically, but after a moment he started to feel weak. It was too much. He pulled away, but Sam latched onto him like a parasite. Cas' heart raced. Things had never hurt him like this before.

"Sam -" he said sharply. "That's enough."

Sam let go with a harsh gasp, pushed Cas' arm aside, and lay back again, gasping in breaths of air. Cas' wrist still bled. He wrapped the excess shirt around it and pressed tightly. He watched Sam, who was still prone on the floor, his body arching forward as he gasped for breath. "Let's get you on the bed," Cas suggested as he swung around to a sitting position. Sam turned to him, still gasping, and nodded breathlessly. He climbed onto the bed, wiped his blood red mouth, and seemed to fall into himself almost immediately.

Cas climbed up and stood next to him, watching as he slept soundly. He pushed aside a length of hair out of Sam's eyes and tried to sort things out in his head. Sort through: the one with the demon blood, and the one chosen by angels.

If Cas had ever faltered with his beliefs before, he was completely gone now.

But before he could clear things in his brain, he faltered himself. Suddenly everything in his body seemed to give up, and he felt loose, like a small leaf in the wind. He started towards the cot on the other side of the room, but stumbled, grabbed the bed to right himself, and tried to keep himself standing.

Sam, not fully asleep, turned and grabbed Cas' wrist. He pulled Cas onto the mattress beside him, and Cas, tired beyond belief, let himself fall into place. Sam wrapped his arms around Cas, and snuggled him close, and then promptly started snoring in his ear.

Cas, pressing his hand around his hurt wrist, started to resist, but then he felt so warm, and so cozy, and so tired, that he soon passed out himself.

*

The next morning, Cas stirred, felt something holding up his wrist, and opened his eyes to see Sam scrutinizing his wound with concern.

When he saw Cas looking up at him, he whispered softly, but dangerously, "What did you do?"

Cas squirmed away from him, pulling his wrist back. "I needed you," he whispered back. "I couldn't be alone."

"What did you do, Cas?" Sam asked again, this time in a steady voice.

"I gave you my blood."

Sam hissed, dropped Cas' arm and turned around, putting his face in his hands. Cas sat up and scooted back, suddenly afraid. He waited.

"So - what? Am I addicted to this now? What happens to me now? Are you okay? Did I -" Sam turned back to him. "Did I hurt you?"

This wasn't what Cas was expecting. He turned to look at Sam, who looked nervous and scared. "No," he said. "I'm fine."

Sam turned to him and put a palm against his forehead. Cas watched him with uncertainty.

"You _stopped_ ," Cas whispered.

"You lost too much," Sam said. "You're pale. You didn't eat anything. Can you stand?"

Cas tried but faltered. Sam caught him and placed him back on the bed. "Stay," he said firmly to him, disappeared for a second and then came back with water and a sandwich.

"I'm not -" Cas protested.

"Shut the fuck up." Sam poured water in Cas' mouth and Cas reluctantly obliged. He was surprised at how good it felt in his throat, even more surprised that when given a sandwich, his body took over and engulfed the entire thing in less than a minute.

Sam watched him. "You stupid shit," he said. Cas opened him mouth to protest, but Sam kindly put his hand on his wrist in a comforting way. "I mean, thank you," he corrected himself. "But still. You have no ounce of self-preservation in that body. And," he hesitated here. "I think you're going to have to come to terms with the fact that... you're human now."

Cas opened his mouth to protest, floundered. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. Sam ignored him. "You're going to have to take better care of yourself," he pleaded. "You're... fragile."

Cas closed his mouth and laid back, tears stinging his eyes again. So far this was not the greatest endeavor in his long life.

Sam pressed his lips together. "Come on," he said, giving his hand. "I'll help you up. You probably need to pee-" Cas looked at him curiously- "And yeah, that means I'm going to have to teach you. I need to clean your wrist up too. And we should get some more food in you."

  
Cas wandered out of the bathroom 30 minutes later feeling a lot better. He had even tried to brush his teeth better this time. He found Sam in the kitchen, the smell of bacon and pancakes almost visibly drawing him to the room.

"Coffee," Sam said, placing it on the table as Cas fell into a chair. Cas drank it deeply and felt his entire body bristle with the sensation. It felt good. Sam placed two plates down on the table and sat down next to him, watching him eat for a minute before digging into his own breakfast. Cas was moaning about the deliciousness of everything and Sam chuckled to himself.

After they had eaten in silence for a while, Sam swallowed and tried to confront Cas again. "So really," he said. Cas was eating his seconds, and didn't look up. "What are the... repercussions?"

"Of what?"

Sam reddened. "Of drinking your blood," he almost whispered.

"I don't believe any," Cas said, his mouth full. "It's not like demon blood."

"Are you sure?"

Cas cocked his head and looked at Sam. "Are you fiending? For some, now?"

Sam scanned Cas, coming to a rest at his wrist, now bandaged up. He knew there was a bloodline there. But he didn't feel any ache for it. "No," he said.

Cas shrugged, and started eating again.

"I do feel -" Sam paused, looked down as he struggled with the words. "I do feel a strange - connection with you, though."

Cas nodded, pressing his lips together. "Yeah," he said. "That will happened. We shared blood."

"Are you okay with that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Sam trailed off, looking out the window, anywhere but at Cas. Cas squinted, realized how annoying that was. "I mean, I'm an abomination," Sam said thickly. "You've never been my greatest fan. How do you feel, having a connection to - me?"

Cas paused, mid-bite. He put down his fork and sat back. "Sam," he said. Sam didn't look at him. He put his hand over Sam's. "Sam, I'm sorry for everything I said. Or - thought." Sam snorted. Cas struggled with his words. "All this time, I've known Dean to be the chosen one, and you to be the danger. That's what I've been told."

"And?"

Cas floundered. "I don't know anymore," he admitted. "What I've been told, and what I know for myself... I feel like everything's been wrong, this whole time. I've been wrong about you, and I've been unfair to you. I never would have thought... the boy with the demon blood would have been the one to save me."

Sam choked back a laugh, swallowed back tears. Still not looking, his grasped Cas' hand back. "I don't want to be the boy with the demon blood," he whispered. "I never did."

"Well," Cas admitted. "Now you're the man with the angel blood."

*

Sam had said he still needed rest, and lots of fluid, so Cas found himself tucked in to the bed upstairs with three glasses of water on the bedstand. Sam had promised he would be in the house, and nothing would be getting past him and to Cas, and Cas again wondered how he could have been so wrong.

He was dozing off into a gentle sleep, when his phone buzzed.

He had left it up here, with his trenchcoat, overnight. He reached out and unlocked it, and almost jumped when he saw the screen.

11 missed calls. 20 texts. All from Dean.

_Cas_  
_I'm so sorry, Cas_  
_you have to understand_  
_that wasn't me_  
_I would never do that_  
_I am so sorry_  
_I'm sorry, Cas_  
_Why did you let me?_  
_Why didn't you fly away?_  
_You could have flown away_  
_You could have stopped it_  
_Why didn't you stop it Cas_  
_Why didn't you stop me_  
_I didn't want to_  
_I never wanted to_  
_Cas_  
_I'm sorry_  
_I'm so Sorry_  
_Cas_  
_Cas_


	6. Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Maybe I trusted the wrong man...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not ready to forgive Dean yet.
> 
> And my apologies if this seems wandering. Think of it as an anti-deus ex-machina... because I'm really just letting it go where it wants to. I feel like that 'explicit' rating means I should do more, but it's really just good ol' Hurt and Comfort.

Sam was downstairs, on his laptop, when his phone rang.

He picked it up, and with a note of amusement in his voice, asked, "Are you seriously calling me from upstairs?"

Cas hesitated on the other side. "He's texting me," he breathed into the phone. "He won't stop. He says I let him."

Sam didn't even hang up. Instead he took the stairs three steps at a time and flew into Cas' room.

Cas, huddled in bed, still holding the phone to his ear, looked up at Sam in wide-eyed surprise.

Sam strode across the room, grabbed Cas' phone out of his hands. He wanted to reassure Cas that it wasn't him that he was mad at, but he was so angry he couldn't speak. He scrolled through the texts.

 _You know me Cas_  
_You have to listen_  
_you owe me that_  
_after all we been through_  
_fucking talk to me, Cas_  
_You're the one who pulled me out_  
_You're the one who saved me_  
_You're the one who knew me best_  
_You had to have known this was going to happen_  
_You have to know this wasn't me_  
_You trusted me_

and then Cas' meek, but condemning only response:  
_maybe I trusted the wrong man_

Dean's texts really lost it from there. Sam didn't even want to read anymore. He twisted the phone in his hands, and then whipped it across the room. It made a dent in the wall and stuck there. Sam reached down, pulled it out, and stomped on it until it was just a massive jumble of technology.

Cas watched it all in horror. Sam leaned over and pressed his face against the wall, trying to calm down his breathing.

"I don't want to come between you two," Cas whispered after a moment. "You're brothers." He paused. "You should forgive him."

Sam whirled around, took a breath, and came at Cas with mild restraint. "Stop defending him," he said. He sat on one edge of the bed, and Cas held himself back from inching away. "This is not about me. Or Dean and me. It's about you. And what he did was wrong."

"But he was cursed..." Cas almost said it like a question. Sam sighed. He knew Cas wanted to believe that. He didn't want to hurt him. At the same time,

"No," Sam said, bracing himself. "It was there all along." He shot a glance up at Cas, who looked troubled but not shocked. Sam, encouraged, continued. "What do you think his hunger was? Love? Sex? Because I promise you it had nothing to do with that. It was about power. It was about control. Over you. I've seen the way he talks to you, even before... He puts you down, he abuses you, he only wants you when it's convenient to us. And if you don't come when he calls," Sam whistled. "He gets pissed. This is about him controlling you, and it just manifested in actual physical abuse."

"I could have left," Cas crowed, his face pressed down between his knees now.

"And why didn't you? Because you couldn't. Not really. That's what emotional manipulation is all about. So that's why I don't buy this curse excuse. He started on you long before Famine came into town."

Cas gave a soft cry and turned around, covering himself up with blankets. Sam felt like an asshole. He knew how much Cas cared about Dean, and how much this must hurt. Almost worst than the original thing. But he couldn't have Cas returning to Dean, forgiving him, going back to the same toxic relationship.

Sam's hands itched over his phone, antsy to call Dean himself. He hesitated, not wanting to leave Cas alone.

"What happens now?" Cas asked.

This took Sam aback. He hadn't thought that far. "Well," he considered. "I guess we just keep going. We hunt. We try to figure out how to stop the apocalypse."

"And me?"

Sam was confused by the question. "I mean... that's up to you. You can do what you want." Cas sniffled, hard. "But if you're willing... I mean, you're more than welcome to come with me."

Cas pulled his head out from under the covers. "Really? I can go with you?"

"Of course," Sam said, cocking his head. "I always wondered why you didn't stay with us longer. I mean, your angel stuff, I guess, but..."

"Right," Cas said. "So where are we going to go?"

Sam noticed the sudden eagerness and realized; Cas probably wanted to put as much distance as he could from this place. "Let's research," he suggested. "Find something far away. Colorado? New Mexico? Florida?"

Cas nodded at each option. "Yes," he said. "Okay."

Sam smiled. "Let me go get my laptop downstairs," he said. "I'll be right back."

But at the bottom of the stairs, Sam couldn't help himself. He pressed on Dean's name and listened as the phone rang.

Dean answered, roughly. "Sam."

Sam cut him off. "Stop trying to contact Cas," he snapped. "Maybe I wasn't clear on that. But leave him alone."

Dean paused. "Who the fuck do you think you are? This is between me and Cas."

"Fuck you. I'm Cas' friend, and I'm telling you, to back off."

Dean snorted. "You're not Cas' friend. He hates you. He's my friend. He's my angel. You're just the abomination. He told me to 'take care of you', you know. Or they - the angels - would. I've been the one defending you all this time-"

"Yes, I know, I'm evil," Sam said, rubbing his face. "Whatever, Dean. Whatever you need to tell yourself. I know you're chosen and all, but really... fuck you. Just because the angels chose you, doesn't mean you're guilt-free. You fucked up, man."

"It was a CURSE!" Dean screamed on the other side of the phone. Sam pulled it away from his ear. "You don't hear me nagging you about drinking fucking demon blood. _Demon blood_ , Sam. You couldn't resist that shit. And you think you can lecture me -"

"I killed two demons!" Sam yelled back. "Maybe drinking their blood was not in my best interest, but Dean - I didn't hurt my best friend."

Dean paused; Sam could hear him, breathing heavy, on the other line. "It was a curse," he stated again. "You can't blame me for what happened."

Sam was shaking his head, even though Dean couldn't see it. "Bullshit," he said. " _Bullshit_. It was partly you. I've noticed it for a while. You're such an ass to Cas. You cut him down, you use him. It's like you think you own him."

"And where were you in this whole equation, huh? So innocent. Why didn't you defend him way back then?"

"I should have. I was dealing with my own shit, so I guess I had my head in my ass, but I really should have. But just because I didn't then, doesn't mean I can't try to fix this now."

"He's not yours to fix," Dean hissed.

"He's not yours either. What the fuck is wrong with you that you can't understand that?"

"Because..." Dean floundered. "He is." Sam snorted. "I mean, he's my friend. He's my... he saved me. We have a _profound relationship_ , Sam."

"Things change. _You fucking hurt him,_ Dean."

Dean snorted. "He's an angel. He'll get over it."

Sam hesitated. "Not anymore."

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.  Sam sighed and continued.  "And no matter what was said in the past, Cas is my friend, too. And right now, he doesn't want to see you. You're just going to have to figure that out. Because if you do try to find us, I won't hesitate to break your face again."

Dean was quiet, seething. Sam cleared his throat and started again, as if beginning a completely new conversation. "So, Cas and I are leaving. We'll leave your car here at Bobby's. Give us an hour, and then get a ride over here and get your fucking _Impala_."

"Where are you going?"

Sam hung up on him. Grabbed his laptop, and ran up the stairs.

Cas was watching him carefully, in a way that told Sam that he had heard everything. Sam brushed it aside, sat on the bed, and pushed the laptop over to Cas. "So," he said in a faux-cheerful voice. "I found this case in Boulder," he said. "Drunk people getting hyped up and into fights and ripping into each other. Quite viciously, and creatively. What do you think?"

Cas looked up at him with a smirk. "This is the type of thing that cheers us up?"

"Cheers hunters up? Sure."

Cas smiled and looked down. "Okay. I thought I had to rest, though?"

"You can rest in the car. It might be best rest to get out of here."

Cas nodded. "I agree."

Thirty minutes later, they had packed all of their things into an empty car on Bobby's lot that Sam promised was okay to use. They pulled out of the driveway, and down the dirt road.

As they waited at the stop sign onto the main highway, a black pickup truck sat, signaling, in the left lane ahead of them. It turned onto the side street, and Cas looked up to see a man driving, and Dean in the passenger's seat, eyes burning into him and Sam.

Sam shook his head and scoffed, and turned onto the highway, turning up the ipod to some pop music that Dean would surely hate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking from here it gets more plotty. I want to see where this goes, if we follow the season but with them separated like this. Any thoughts?


	7. Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are the good things.

They made their way towards Boulder,  but they had had a late start and both were exhausted.

"Do you mind if we stop soon? "Sam asked.  " I guess there's no real rush. "

"Stopping sounds nice, " Cas murmured from his folded up position, feet on the dash,  slumped over and wrapped around himself, staring out the window. "Look.  Ogallala in  40 miles. "

"Oh, " Sam said. Then "uh,  do you know that place? "

"No,  but it's called Ogallala. We really should stop there. "

Sam smiled to himself.  "Okay, " he conceded.  "If it'll make you happy. "

Cas smiled too, watching the burnt fields zoom past them.  He never realized how relaxing a car ride could be.

Ogallala lived up to its name.  Sam turned off the highway,  passed the generic motels,  and drove into downtown.

"What's up? " Cas asked casually, and the phrase struck Sam as strange.  He looked at Cas, slumped and chill,  and wondered how much of a personality change being human would have on him.

"I figure we need to see what's up in Ogallala, " Sam said.  "You seem like such a fan. "

"I was kidding," Cas  protested.  I've never been here before. "

And there it was.  Sam chuckled.  Cas looked offended.  "No, " Sam denied. "I'm not laughing at you.  I'm laughing with you."

Cas squinted. 

"You told a joke,  right?  That it was a funny name.  OK,  maybe joke is a strong word. But you were being silly. I'm going with it. " Cas still didn't look convinced.  Sam sighed and clasped his hand on Cas' knee. "I'm sorry.  I know you have a lot to learn.  It's okay,  really.  I'm just teasing." Sam sighed when Cas didn't respond.  "I'll stop. "

But Cas was just watching Sams hand on his knee.  It still blind-sided him at times: how comfortable Sam was with him; how easy he was to hang out with.  Not everything was a drama, no anger and tension,  pent up rage and resentment.

It was weird.

"Look! " Sam exclaimed, pointing up now.  They were driving on an uneven brick road, small wooden buildings on one side with large block letters announcing their name: Saloon, Front Street,  Livery Barn Cafe.

"It's old American West, " Cas commented. 

"...yeah!" Sam said, surprised he caught the reference.

"I have lived for millions of years.  I do know some things."

"Your frame of reference is always so random, though.  I don't know what you paid attention to and what you ignored.  Cartoons, for example.  Really?"

"I had more important things to do."  

Sam shrugged.

Cas said he felt like he was about to pass out, so Sam into the Oregon Trail motel.  After checking in to the room, Cas walked straight to the bed,  kicked off his shoes,  and fell on top of the covers.

Sam got out his laptop, kicked back on the second bed.  He was tired himself, but still felt uneasy and restless.  He thought some research might distract him.  Anything to get his mind off of things.

*

It was almost dark when Sam woke up to Cas standing over him.  "Fuck," Sam said, sitting up quickly, looking up at the man.  "That's creepy, right?"

"I've been told."

Sam wiped his eyes.  "Cas, uh... what do you want?"

"I wanted you to wake up.  I'm bored."

"Okay."  Sam looked at him.  "Look," he took Cas' hand and pressed it against his shoulder.  "Hey Sam," he mimicked.  "Wake up."

Cas looked at him blankly.  "Do that next time," Sam said.  "Don't be creepy."

"Okay."  Cas sat on the bed next to Sam.  "I'm bored.  And sad."

"I know.  Welcome to being human."

"You're bored and sad all the time?"

"No, sorry.  Joke.  What do you want to do?"  

Cas thought for a moment.  "I'm hungry too."

"Okay, let's get something to eat."

They were driving around aimlessly when Sam saw the sign for Lake McConaughy.  "I know," he said, suddenly excited. "Let's get a pizza and beer and go to the lake."

"That sounds weird.  That's not something you usually do."

"I know.  Exactly. Plus, you're human now.  You got to experience some of the good things of being human, besides the bad."

"Pizza and beer and the lake are good things?"

"It's a start."

 And that's how they found themselves sitting on a sandy beach, eating pepperoni pizza and drinking beer as the sun set on the water.

Cas was enthusiastic about the pepperoni pizza.  He didn't understand why anyone would drink beer intentionally.  Sam told him it got better the more you drank, so he chugged two at once, and Sam almost choked on his pizza laughing.  Cas still looked around quizzically and announced it was still disgusting.

A minute later he said he felt quite good, though. 

"That's the point," Sam said, laying back and folding his arms behind his head. "Things that make you feel good."

Cas sat, watching him from his sitting position.  "What else?"

"Hm?"

"What else is on that list."

Sam thought for a moment.  "Swimming, for one. Getting a nice long sleep after being tired for a long time. Listening to good music. Being with friends.  Chinese food. Laughing a whole lot."

"Dean said sex."

Sam paused, irritated.  "Okay," he said slowly.  "That sounds like something he would say.  When was that?"

"When you were gone, and he was going with me to confront Raphael.  He said it was my last night on Earth, and I needed to enjoy myself."

Sam whistled, not knowing what to say.  "Whoa.  Weird. He says that to chicks to manipulate them into sleeping with them."

"Was that what he was doing?"

"Well..." Sam hesitated, not wanting to have this conversation.  "What ended up happening?"

"He took me to a club where girls will have sex with you."

"And?"

"I pissed off this woman and got thrown out."

Sam suppressed a grin.  "That's probably for the best.  Those places are gross."

"Why?"

"Because. Sex is supposed to be with someone you care about."

"Is it, though?  One of the things that make you feel good?"

"Uh - yeah. It makes you feel *really* good."

"Then - " Cas faltered.  "Why -"

Sam interrupted him so he didn't have to say it. "That wasn't sex."

"Is it because we're both males?"

"No, it's because you didn't want to."

Cas fell quiet again.  Sam got up, annoyed now.  So much for taking his mind off of things.  "I'm jumping in the lake," he said, pulling his T-shirt off and undoing his pants. Cas looked slightly horrified.  "Jesus," Sam said, again awkward.  "Cas, turn around if it makes you uncomfortable.  I'm not getting naked, I'm just getting down to my boxers.  I don't want to get my clothes wet."

But Cas watched him quietly as he threw his shoes, socks, shirt and pants in a pile, and then walked out to the water.  He waded in until he was about waist deep, and then fell back, letting the water catch him.

It looked like fun.

Cas took off his trench coat, pulled off his shirt and pants, and then quickly pulled his trenchcoat back on.  At least he was a little covered.  He followed Sam out into the water.

Sam saw him and snickered, but not unkindly.  "Oh, Cas," he said affectionately.  "You are a nut."

Cas let his feet go and fell back into the water.  It was cold at first, but then wrapped around him like a blanket.  It was soft and syrupy and made him feel like he wanted to cry.  He lay back and let the water mingle through his hair.  

Sam laid back as well, and floated along.  Above them, the sky had turned to a purple dusk, and millions of stars twinkled into perspective.  Sam felt a strange sense of calm, that he hadn't felt since... 

Cas went underwater and flailed up, sputtering and coughing up water.  Sam stood up, held him up.  "Sorry," he said, "I guess you don't know how to swim."

Cas bent over, coughing, and Sam patted him on the back.  "Oh," Cas muttered, wiping his face. "That wasn't pleasant at all."

"Yeah, side effect of being human.  You can't breathe underwater. You wanna get out?"

"No," Cas protested like a small child.  "No, let's stay."

"Okay.  Maybe - we could go farther in, so we can stay standing but still be in the water?"

Cas nodded.  Sam took his hand and led him out to the water, carefully navigating the rocky, sandy grounds.

"It's strange," Cas commented.  "It's scary because you can't see what's in the water. And it's unpleasant, the feel of the rocks on my feet.  But the water feels so nice, I almost don't care."

Sam nodded thoughtfully.  "I guess it's a lot like life, then," he said.  He let go of Cas' hand and slid back into the water.  

Cas stay standing, swirling his hand around in the water, experimented with splashing his hand through to create waves.  

After another long moment, Cas spoke again. "So it can be pleasant?"

"What?"

"Sex... between two males."

Sam almost floundered and splashed and drowned himself;  almost.  But he caught himself and stayed floating, calmly, as if he wasn't about to lose his shit.  "Um, yeah, it can be."

"Do you know?  I mean, have you?"

Sam reddened.  "I mean, in the past.  In college, sure."

"And it was pleasant."

Sam took a moment to answer.  "Yes."

"Oh."  And then a small, more unsure voice. "And Dean?"

Sam snorted. "Lord knows.  He's bi as shit, I know that much.  But he would never admit it."

 "He's never -?"

"Not as far as I know."

Cas stood, peering up at the sky, as if he wanted to say more.  Sam watched him, and the question was on the tip of his tongue, and he knew he shouldn't ask it, but he was feeling relaxed with the beers and the swimming, and before he could stop himself it was spilling out: 

"Cas. I know this is a terrible question, but... and I mean, I'm not blaming you. I already said it was emotional manipulation, and I do, completely blame Dean.  But..." Sam trailed off.  Cas was staring at him, hard now. "I mean.  Were you already human?  Could you - or... Why... why  _didn't_ you leave?"

Sam felt like a terrible person as soon as he said it.  He pulled himself up, standing, and turned away from Cas.  "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have asked.  Never mind.  You don't have to explain anything."

Cas was quiet, then moved back so that he was floating on the water.  Sam turned and watched him, sadly.

"Because it's Dean," Cas said.

"So?  Fuck Dean.  What does that mean?" Sam asked. 

Cas struggled with that.  "I don't know," he admitted.  "I know I was charged with pulling him up from Hell.  I know that at first, I was in charge of this, and I looked down on him - and you - as pawns in this game.  But then something changed."

"You rebelled."

"That.  And... I mean, in a way, Dean was right.  I am his. He's my charge.  Or was.  Everything I did, was for him."

Sam burned at that.  "You love him."

"I don't know," Cas said quietly.  Sam looked off.  That made things worse.  That was why Dean could manipulate and torture Cas so much.  That was why Cas always put up with it.  It was sick.

"That's called a toxic relationship," Sam muttered.  "Real love shouldn't make you feel like shit."

Cas was quiet.  "I'm sorry," Sam said.  "I shouldn't have brought it up."  He dove down into the water and swam along the bottom, skimming the floor with his hands.  He caught a strange, smooth rock, and pushed back up to the surface.

Cas was frantic.  "You said that humans couldn't breath underwater!" He shouted, his hair suddenly wet and sticking up at all angles.

Sam looked confused. "We can hold our breath for a short time," he explained.  Cas was breathing heavily.  "Look," he said, pulling up the rock.  It was smooth and dark and shaped like a boomerang.  He faltered, feeling like a kid trying to cheer up an adult with a gift. Of a rock.  He put it down.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Can we go back now?" Cas asked. 

"Okay," Sam agreed, feeling like shit.  He had ruined their evening, bringing up that stuff.  It was like Dean was still haunting them, even with the five hours they had put between them.

But on the way back to the shore, Cas took his hand again.  "Thank you," he said, and Sam looked perplexed.  "I had fun," Cas said simply.

Sam nodded, biting his lip, and they climbed ashore and tried to pull dry shirts and jeans onto their wet bodies. 


	8. All Good Things...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's just not a good idea when you're drunk," he explained calmly. "Plus, what you've been through - I wouldn't feel right about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU s5e16: Dark Side of the Moon: briefly, at the end

The Boulder case was a bust. Just a late episode of bath salts.  Sam had figured as much,  he hadn't put that much effort in his research this time around.  He had been too pissed to concentrate for a while.

It was Cas who brought it up.  He wanted to go see the Rockies. Like the brothers,  he had spent so long working,  so long trying to save the world, that he hadn't spent much time appreciating it.

They hiked out to huge waterfalls "I've never been so tired," Cas whined,  falling on the forest floor,  and Sam laughed and teased and took photos of him. 

They went to the theater,  "all liars," Cas scoffed at the beginning,  although by the end he was in tears and clutching Sam's arm. 

They went to the movie theater to see an action movie and Cas about shit his pants.

 "You've died," Sam said,  exasperated.  "You've been at war."

"I dunno, man," Cas said. "It never seemed that intense."

It was funny how quickly Cas had caught onto more human lingo.  Sam was surprised at how well he got along with the angel - he was just _the angel_ now,  no longer _Dean's angel_.

"Ex-angel," Cas would correct,  and Sam would tuck his hair back and coo: "but you're my little angel poo."

The first time Cas smacked him,  Sam was over the moon.  "Yes!" He'd exclaimed.  "Stand up for yourself.  C'mon, punch me in the face."

"You have a masochistic streak," Cass said in mock disapproval.  Sam gave him a shitty smile. 

So when Cas mentioned to Sam one day, when they were on their third beers (and fifth rounds of shots) at the bar,  "you seem different," Sam was confused.

"Me?" He asked.

Cas tilted his head back,  scrutinizing him.  "Happier," he clarified.

Sam reddened,  and didn't answer.

"You were always so furtive,  when Dean came back.  Hiding your affair with Ruby, learning how to exorcise demons.  So troubled,  and troubling.  I remember being very worried about you."

"Yeah," Sam said, looking down and letting his hair fall over his eyes.  He didn't like remembering those dark days, when Dean was gone,  and then when Dean came back. 

"So what happened?"

And Sam couldn't really blame Cas - he had already asked him,  the worst question.  So he breathed in deep and tried to answer.

"I've been guilty my entire life," he said.  "I was always. .. the weird one.  The bad son,  the... completely unintentional rebel.  I felt this darkness around me for so long,  and I thought Dean was the only thing protecting me from that.  And when he went away,  I fell."

"And now?" Cas could be an aggressive drunk. Sam kinda liked it.

"Now?  I don't know.  Somehow,  I feel. .. like myself,  for the first time in my life.  I'm over the demons,  I'm over the darkness.  And I'm over trying to save the world and just fucking it up even more.  I just want. .." Sam sighed as he nodded to the bartender,  bringing the sixth round.  "I just want to live my life.  That's what I always wanted."

Cas watched him steadily.  Sam gave a nervous chuckle and raised his shot glass to his lips.  Cas suddenly reached forward,  took his glass,  and knocked sides with Sam's. They both downed the liquor.

"It's the angel blood," Cas said,  hissing as he lowered the glass.  Sam looked at him questioningly. "It purified the demon blood in you. I never knew there was such an easy cure."

"Why'd you do it,  then?"  Sam asked softly. He didn't like to mention it. 

"Desperation."

They finished their beers and walked back to the hotel,  four blocks away,  stumbling and laughing about something inane.

And then,  they were crossing an alleyway,  when Cas grasped Sam's hand and pulled the taller man to him.

Sam stumbled,  let himself fall back to face Cas.

And then Cas stood on his tiptoes and leaned forward,  pressing a soft wet kiss onto Sam's stupidly open mouth. 

Sam's body went numb.  He leaned into the kiss for a moment - let his body be tugged forward by a hungry Cas, his hands suddenly all over Sam - and then he snapped out of it,  grunting something like "no" and pulled away.

Cas, face downlit by a nearby street light, froze, crestfallen and panicked.  Sam gasped,  put his hand to his mouth. 

Cas looked stricken,  backing away from Sam.

"No," Sam said quickly,  advancing on him.  He was certain that had Cas been an angel, he would be gone by now.  He had visions of Cas actually trying to run down the street now, in an attempt to get away from Sam. "Stop, Cas.  It's fine."

"No," Cas said,  backing up,  further into the alley. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay. You're drunk. I just-"

Cas hit the brick wall of the building and looked caught. Sam put his hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him.

"It's just not a good idea when you're drunk," he explained calmly.  "Plus,  what you've been through - I wouldn't feel right about it."

Cas nodded,  quickly, looking down as he blinked back tears. "I'm sorry, " he said.  "I'm so sorry."

"Calm down. Trust me when I say,  it's okay," Sam, against his better judgement,  reached out and took Cas in his arms,  a big bear hug,  in an attempt to calm him.

Cas,  a stiff ball of anxiety in his arms, held out for a second,  and then melted completely in Sam's arms, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist and burrowing his head into his chest.

"Shh," Sam rocked him like a baby; felt absurd;  and continued doing it anyway.  After a moment,  he said "let's get back to the hotel," and they stumbled,  drunk and drained,  back to the Oregon trail.

 

*

In the end, there wasn't time to talk about it.  Sam woke up the next morning,  with a throbbing headache and a sudden panic deep in his chest. 

He looked over to Cas, sitting in the next bed,  looking just as alarmed.  

"Dean," Sam said thickly,  having trouble putting his terror into words. "Something's happened to Dean," he tried to explain. 

It seemed there was no need.  Cas had felt it too. He turned to Sam slowly, looking like a haunted child in a horror movie. "Dean," he breathed.  "He's dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean chapter coming...


	9. And Then There Was Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's not necessarily the hero

Dean's not necessarily the hero.  He always thought he was before.  He'd burn at the responsibility, but he embraced it, always stepping up to save the world. 

Not like Sam. Weak Sam,  running away,  going to college,  moving on with his life after Dean sacrificed his to save him. Moving on to demons,...  and demon blood. 

It always burned him up to know that he cared about Sam far more than his brother reciprocated. 

 He wanted to hate him.  He wanted to rail at Sam for taking Cas away from him.  

But something nagged at him,  laying just above his subconscious. It was an undercurrent of longing for Cas that lived under his skin,  that made him feel hungry and out of control.  It frightened him sometimes,  waking up from bloody, hateful dreams of Cas, and he knew that even though Famine was still gone,  Dean was still hungry.  

It had only awoken a beast who couldn't be contained now. 

So as much as he wanted to scream at Sam, pull Cas back to him, even (or especially) if he had to drag him,  kicking and screaming...

Another part of him,  the part that actually cared for Cas, was glad that Sam had done it.  He would have done the same thing,  if things had been reversed.  Someone needed to get Cas out of danger.  The dumbass sure wasnt going to do it himself. 

Dean clenched his fist and wanted again to beg _Cas, why? Why did you let me?_

If only he had asked a little calmer before.  Instead,  he had only made things worse. 

"I think I'm a terrible person," he said one day to Bobby.  Bobby looked up, unsure.  He hadnt said anything when he found Dean alone at his house;  hadn't asked about Sam and Cas. Then there had been the whole thing with the revived corpses,  so they had been a little busy. 

Bobby put his book down.  They had been researching,  trying to find a solution to the end of the world.  He didn't know where this was coming from.  "Dean, I know you.  For. .. how long?  You're a good man."

Dean shook his head,  feeling something in his chest crumble.  "I did something really bad,  Bobby."

He didn't even feel ashamed at the tremble in his voice. 

"It couldn't be that bad.  Beyond forgiveness." So he knew it had something to do with the missing brother and angel. 

"I..." Dean's voice cracked.  He whispered the rest.  "I think it might be."

Bobby leaned forward, concerned now.  "Well," he said.  "Then you gotta find a way to make it fucking right."

But how could he do that?  The world was ending and Dean was a monster,  because even now he could feel that urge inside of him,  knew that if given a chance, he would only hurt Cas again.  

And again,  

and again.

"Do you think I'm cursed?  Or possessed?"

But Bobby tried the holy water and salt and all kinds of things, to no avail.  "If it is something controlling you... it's beyond us," he finally said. 

*

Dean had said he was on a new case,  and Bobby didn't offer to come.  So he drove out to the middle of nowhere and tried to pray to Cas. 

"I'm hoping Sam was lying.  God,  this would be easier if Sam was a dick. But I'm hoping he was wrong,  and you're really still there,  Cas, listening.  Please, Cas, tell me you still have your powers."

And he waited, the silence heavy, each moment that went by with no Cas, another knife in his heart. 

 The next night he tried again. And when there was silence, he became desperate. 

Called for the only other angel he knew. 

"Sup, broseph?" Gabriel popped up behind him. It was reassuring in a way, the way he announced his presence, instead of piping up creepily, silent, like Cas.

"Gabriel," Dean said,  standing up and facing the angel,  suddenly not knowing what to say. 

"Dean," Gabriel mimicked in mock seriousness. "Where's your brother lover?"

"Out," Dean growled. "Gone."

"Oh?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Interesting.  With your little angel?"

"Not mine.  But yes."

Gabriel actually looked genuinely surprised at that.  "Oh," he said for a moment,  stumped.  "Oh! Curious." He looked behind him,  at the empty queen bed,  and then leapt back into it, landing with his hands behind his head. "So there's currently a spot open?" He said,  wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Dean was losing his patience.  "I need your help," he said. "I need to know what's wrong with me."

"Oh, Dean.  SO many things."

"I need to know why I'm-" Dean cut himself short. He wrung his hands together.  "I have this crazy bloodlust in me," he said quietly.  "It's fairly new.  And very specific." Gabriel started to ask and Dean stopped him.  "I don't want to explain more." 

Gabriel gasped and put his hand to his mouth,  just as Dean felt a strange intrusion push into his thoughts.  "Hey man!" he yelled,  grabbing his head and pushing the angel out before he got too far.   "You don't... DO that."

"Oh my," Gabriel said, looking intrigued. "Oh, sweet Jesus."

Dean looked miserable.  "Is it true?  Did I make Cas human?"

"He's been on the shit list for some time.  Definitely since he rebelled to help you.  But... this would present a certain explanation." Gabriel said thoughtfully. "Angel radio has gone suddenly silent on him. Last I heard. .. Something about him being taken care of."

Dean sat down on the bed and put his face in his hands.  Gabriel inched away from him.  "You still... feeling like that?" he asked. 

"I want to stop it.  I can't.  I don't want to be like this. What's wrong with me? Is it from my time in hell?  Is it something from Heaven?"

"You know I don't get into all that shit," Gabriel waved it aside. 

"Well how can I stop it??" Dean shouted desperately. "Is it from Zachariah?  Is it another attempt to get me to say yes to Michael? "

Gabriel looked at him strangely.  "I'll look into it," he said with an unusual seriousness. And then he was gone.

And what if that was all there was,  Dean thought,  laying back on the bed.  Him.  Saying yes to Michael. 

*

He woke up to a confused pair of bumbling idiots bursting through the hotel door and waving guns around.  "Where's Sam?" One squeaked.  "Where the fuck is Sam?"

"Shut the hell up,  Roy," the other hissed.  Dean slowly rose, blinking hard, and glared at them. 

"Walt?" he asked.  The second stooge went stiff. 

"Fuck!" Roy pulled off his mask.  "You fucking idiot,  Walt!"

Walt pulled his mask off too.  "Shut up," he said again.  Then,  to Dean: "where's Sam? "

"Fuck you," Dean slurred. "Get the hell outta here. "

"We know he started the apocalypse.  We're going to stop him before he fucks up everything else," the brother explained. 

"The hell you are," Dean said. "I'll fucking kill you before you get a chance,"

Roy was looking worried.  "He's right,  Walt. We can't leave now.  You don't want Dean Winchester on your ass."

Awareness dawned on Dean. He was so goddamned miserable.  There was no way to make this up.  And he just wanted it to stop.

There was one way to express it to heaven. 

He jumped up, advanced on the two jackasses with a sudden aggression. 

It worked. 

Walt panicked. 

Pulled the trigger. 

And Dean was dead before he hit the floor. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious about how many people fall on either side on this. Let me know with this handy survey!
> 
> https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/MCH27RK


	10. Where Gabe is Serious for Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then, before he could tell what was happening, Gabe was on his knees and hugging him. 
> 
> "What are you doing?" he squeaked.
> 
> "Hugging you," Gabe said.
> 
> "...Why??"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one. Hopefully not too much exposition. Let me know :)

"Yes. Okay. Thanks, Bobby." Sam pressed a button on his phone and slid it into his pocket. Turning back to a pacing Cas, he said, "Bobby is going to call some people. See if anyone's heard anything. There's a couple of hunters in the area Dean was headed, he thinks they might be able to scout the area to find something."

Cas sat down on the bed, his face in his hands.  Sam hesitated to approach him: he could almost feel the turmoil, the roil of emotions exuding off the man.  But in the end, he sat down and put his arm around Cas.

"You have to calm down," Sam said, sensing the tension in Cas' back.  The man was slowly imploding upon himself.  "We don't even know it's for sure yet."

"We know," Cas said, his voice muffled into his hands.  "I know."  Sam watched him, worried, trying to make it better some how.  Cas took a deep breath and then lowered his hands, resting his head on Sam's shoulder.  "You should be with him," he said sadly.  "You're his brother.  Why the fuck did you choose to come with me instead of him?"

Sam hugged him tight. "What kind of thing to say is that?  It's obvious."

"It's not," Cas pushed.

"You were a friend, hurting, that needed help.  Of course I chose you."

Cas closed his eyes.  "He's your brother," he said again.

"So what does that mean?  I stand behind him no matter what fucked up shit he does?  I'm sorry, if you're looking for blind fucking loyalty to family for no discernible reason, you're looking at the wrong brother," Sam snapped.  Cas pulled back and looked at him.  Sam groaned. "I know, he's my brother, and... I guess I still love him, in a way. But he fucked up, Cas. What he did was wrong. I couldn't back him up on that."

"Why not?  Why care about me?"

"I told you, you're a friend." 

Cas fell back on the bed and covered his eyes again.  Sam watched him, and then gently laid down beside him.  "Why am I upset?" Cas said, rubbing his eyes.  "I hate him. I still hate him."

"I know," Sam said.

"Why does this bother me so much?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted. He looked up at the ceiling. "But I feel like I understand where you're coming from. Exactly."

Cas dropped his hands and his left hand found Sam's, grasping it and threading their fingers together.  Sam gave his a squeeze, and they both lay there, letting the tumult of emotion swirl over them.

"This. Is. Fucking. Adorable."  A voice loomed over them.

Cas shot up like a scared rabbit.  Sam rubbed his eyes and slowly pulled himself up.  Gabriel was standing in front of them, his expression a strange mixture of suspicion, amusement, and insult. 

"What do you want," Sam asked drolly.  He wasn't in the mood for this jackass now.  

"We're not -" Cas said,  snapping his mouth shut before he could finish.  "We aren't -"

" _Fucking_?" Gabe finished the sentence for him.  "Oh, no," he said, watching Sam in a way that made him feel uncomfortable.  "Even worse, baby brother.  He's got your blood in him."

"He saved me," Cas said, climbing off the bed and walking away, even as he spoke.  "I saved him."

Gabe continued to watch Sam with a perverse,  disturbing stare. Sam scratched the back of his head and shifted uncomfortably, watching Cas. Gabe finally turned to Cas too.

"I need to speak with you.  Alone."

"Bullshit," Sam finally spoke up.  "You can speak right here, in front of me. "

But Gabe was advancing on Cas, who looked at Sam and said: "don't worry.  I'll be right back."

And then Gabe clapped his hand on Cas' shoulder and the two disappeared. 

Sam opened his mouth to argue but they were gone.  He stuttered, feeling the loss of Cas by his side - it had been a few days since they'd been separated - and then finally sighed and flung himself back on the thin motel comforter, suddenly weary with exhaustion. 

*

 Gabe and Cas appeared on one of the peaks of the Rockies.  Cas immediately collapsed on a rocky ledge and Gabe turned to him now, giving him an unsettling look of heartbroken concern. "What happened to you, Cas?"

Cas shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.  Sam had taught him enough that he knew he was cold now,  but he was too proud to admit that in front of an archangel.  

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked instead. 

"I took us where you wanted to go," Gabe shrugged.  "So why did you want to come here?"

Cas looked around, at the 360 view of the valley around them.  He had wanted to come here with Sam. He didn't say anything.  

"Let me heal you," Gabe said. Cas started to protest, but Gabe's hand was on his forehead and he suddenly felt a warmth take over him,  and all the old bruises and scars still left by Dean rapidly faded away.  Gabe pulled back and Cas took a sharp breath, feeling infinitely better. 

Gabe, however, had darkened.  "What did Dean do to you?" he asked, his voice a strangled attempt at suppressing his rage. 

Cas looked at him,  then turned away.  That was a question he was never going to answer. 

And then, before he could tell what was happening, Gabe was on his knees and hugging him. 

It was a lot stronger than Sam hugging him. It hurt. Cas shifted awkwardly and tried to breathe.  "What are you doing?" he squeaked.

"Hugging you," Gabe said.

"... _Why_?"

"Because I'm your big brother." Gabe pulled back, frowned at Cas as he realized this wasn't working, and then pulled back, and sat beside him instead, so close that their legs and sides were touching. Gabe had never been one for personal space, but this was a bit much. 

"Angels don't work like that," Cas said, thinking of the way Dean always cared for Sam. It was one thing that he liked about Dean, even if he had always wished Dean would act an ounce that caring towards himself. 

"Archangels do," Gabe responded.  He was watching Cas carefully. "You never really felt that, Cas? All angels should, to some degree.  You were always so serious."

"I was a soldier. I wasn't important."

"You are now."

Cas looked up.  "How do you mean?"

Gabe watched him carefully.  "You have to help me stop Heaven."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dean's going to say yes to Michael."

Cas went cold again. "Thought you'd be happy about that."

"I have... changed my opinion, on that."

"Why?"

Gabe rolled it around in his head, trying to explain it tactfully to Cas.  "I... I did some digging.  I spoke to Dean yesterday and he wanted me to find out..." Cas was suddenly alert, listening carefully.  "He wanted to know if he was under a curse."

"Is he?" Cas interrupted. 

Gabe tilted his head back and forth.  "Hard to say.  Not an obvious one. But it would appear, he is a weapon of heaven.  And has been, for some time. Even before you pulled him out of hell."

"Heaven didn't control him then.  They sent us to rescue him.  He wasn't supposed to go."

Gabe bit his lip.  "Except that was all of Heaven's plan."

"Why?"

"They needed a weapon," Gabe shrugged.  

"Do you know how many angels died in that mission?" Cas was livid now. 

"I do," Gabe said.  "And that's why I no longer want this to go on."

"What's the alternative?  If Dean's said yes to heaven. .."

"Well, he hasn't yet.  Some idiot brothers... _other_  idiot brothers... came looking for Sam and shot Dean instead. I'm just concerned that, being in heaven now, and talking like he did last night..."

"And what's the alternative? To heaven?"

Gabe was silent for a moment.  "I don't know," he finally admitted.  "All I can think is that we could probably talk more sense into Lucifer than heaven right now."

"No.  That is not an option."

"I'm not saying it's a great option,  but... Cas,  heaven sent Dean to destroy you.  They knew he was the one person who could hurt you more than anything else."

"So you're saying it wasn't his fault?"

"I'm not saying that." Cas groaned in frustration.  Gabe held up his hands to thwart blame.  "I'm saying, he's an instrument of heaven, and he's dangerous.  And you need to stay as far away from him as possible."

"That's going to be pretty easy. He's in heaven."

"And Zachariah is going to come down and offer you your wings back if you go and find him and convince him to say yes to Michael."

Cas didnt respond. He still felt cold somehow.  He wanted Sam. 

"I'm going to try to talk some sense into Lucifer," Gabe said. "I have a... goddess friend you could stay with.  Who could protect you."

"I'm staying with Sam."

"Cas..." Gabe picked at Cas' collar affectionately.  "Is that a good idea?"

"It's what I'm doing."

Gabe studied him. "You know I could just make you stay with Kali."

"You really want to start making me do things against my will, too?"  Cas said hostilely.

Gabe immediately gave up.  "Back to Sammy it is," he said. 

And then Cas was standing in the motel room, suddenly dark compared to the mountain, and Sam was sitting up and calling to him, reaching to him. 

Cas choked back a sob and fell into Sam's arms, holding him tight and letting the tears fall, wetting Sam's shirt. 

Sam moved back on the bed to make room for Cas, and Cas kicked off his shoes and climbed under the covers, burrowing deeper into Sam. Sam held him, not wanting to speak, squeezing him as he felt Cas' body shake and shiver. 

He pressed a kiss on Cas' forehead and Cas looked up, his eyes scanning Sam's face for the okay.  He moved forward,  then stopped,  unsure.  In the end, it was Sam who leaned forward and softly pressed his lips against Cas'.

Cas kissed back but didn't pursue it.  Sam held back.  "Is this okay?" he whispered. 

"Yes," Cas whispered back, closing his eyes as tears burned them.  "Sam..."

Sam waited.  He wanted desperately to know what had happened, but he gave Cas time. 

"Gabe said Heaven is using Dean.  Has been.  I don't know how culpable he is but... Gabe said he's dangerous, and to stay away from him."

"Is he... dead?"

"Yes, shot by two brothers looking for you.  But the night before, he was talking about saying yes to Michael."

"Heaven used him... to punish you?" Sam asked with slow realization. "Wait, someone wanted to kill me?"

"Gabe is going to try to talk to  _Lucifer_ ," Cas continued.  "And Zachariah's going to offer me my wings back to help convince Dean to say yes. Apparently he's not aware that it's probably not needed."

"... holy shit..." Sam tried to muddle together his thoughts, looking for the right thing to say.  He was at a loss. "Is Dean... could he...?"

"I don't know.  It's too much to process," Cas admitted, and instead pulled Sam back to him and nuzzled into his chest.  Sam's arms were strong and gentle, wrapped around Cas' small frame, and he felt at peace.  He never wanted to leave them. 

"What do we do?" Sam asked.

" _I just want to live my life,_ " Cas echoed Sam's words from before. They lay there,  in silence, and were both almost asleep when Cas whispered: " _I'm going to heaven to talk to Dean."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left feedback on the survey and the comments!
> 
> Right now Sastiel is winning, but you can still put in your two cents at https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/MCH27RK.


	11. Toxic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zachariah walked around him with a steady foot. “It’s what you do, Dean,” he told him. “You do your job. And you do – a good job. You know how to use people, how to hurt people. It’s your role here. You’re a weapon for Heaven.”

Cas looked down affectionately at Sam, curled up with the wad of blankets he had stolen from Cas, his hair in mussed strands across the pillow, the sheets hiked up with one leg pulled out and over them.

He still didn’t understand why the big guy had taken up his cause. He was glad he had. The last few days had been… something Cas had needed for a long time. No work. No apocalypse. Just living their lives. Cas imagined in another world, he and Sam could have kept on like that.

Being Happy.

He brushed Sam’s hair out of his eyes and gently kissed Sam’s temple. Sam sighed and rolled over, his hand briefly brushing past Cas’ chest. Then he was on his other side, and snoring again.

Cas felt a sad sense of loss but he pulled his trench coat on and quietly left the motel room.

Outside, there was a chill in the air. Cas watched the stars, breathed in the silence of the night. He hadn’t remembered the beauty of this world. Or he hadn’t remembered it when he was an angel. Somehow, being human was so much more real. Real painful, real horrible… but also visceral and moving and sweet. It was almost too much to bear.

So he closed his eyes and bowed his head and felt the shame rise in him as he called out to Zachariah.

*

Dean, in Heaven, laughed with his brother as they set off illegal fireworks. His mother made him a sandwich. He leaned over and kissed Cassie. Or Lisa. Or Castiel.

He flinched at that one. So far, everything had been a memory. He pulled back, looked at Cas, ruffled and bewildered and watching Dean with wide, alert eyes.

“Cas?” He asked, his voice a tremble. And then: a sense of joy. It was the first time he had seen Cas and not wanted to jump his bones, break his bones, for a while.

“Dean…” Cas responded, looking uneasy. He looked around, trying to think of something to say. Dean looked around too: they were in an abandoned building that looked faintly familiar. “I know you said it was our last night on Earth, but… I was under the impression that sex was something you could only do with a woman.”

“How long have you been around, Cas?” Dean scoffed. “Jesus.” He bit his tongue. Not wanting that part of him to come out. Instead, quickly: “Cas, I need your help. I’m in Heaven. I hurt you. I need to fix things. Tell me how to make everything all right?”

Cas, though, did not respond to any of this, and instead strode over to a broken table and sat, hard, in a chair. He looked very thoughtful. Dean raised his hands, started to try again, and then realized Cas couldn’t hear anything off script.

“Oh,” Cas said, as he quickly replayed all of humanity in his mind. “Oh,” he said again, with a catch in his breath.

“Cas, I don’t remember this,” Dean said. “Did this really happen?”

Cas looked up at Dean, and Dean walked up to him without knowing why. “You would do that with me?” he asked.

Dean knelt down beside Cas and put his hand on his arm. “Cas,” he said, and now the words weren’t his, but a recollection; a forgotten recollection that revealed itself to him only as they left his tongue. “Cas, I need you. I want you. Would you –“

And Cas’ hand was quick, on Dean’s, and his answer “of course. I would do anything for you, Dean.” He paused, cocked his head, and scrutinized Dean’s angst written across his face. “I’m yours, Dean.”

And then Dean was climbing on top of Cas, hungrily stretching himself out over Cas’ body, cupping Cas’ face in his palms and kissing him deeply.

Because Cas had said –

Cas had said –

“He’s yours,” Zachariah explained as the vision of Cas and the abandoned house faded away. Dean, slumped over onto his knees and groaned. What a fucking cock-block, just the sound of Zachariah’s voice was enough to make him limp. He sighed deeply, cursing the angel, and then turned around.

Zachariah smiled down at him and lifted up his arms as if to say “Here’s… me!” Dean wanted to smash his fucking face in. Maybe he could finally see that old lion head of his. Give it a good smack, right in the teeth.

“So, Dean. I hear you’re interested in Michael’s offer now,” Zachariah smirked, clasping his hands together like a salesman. Smarmy.

“I need answers,” Dean said.

“Sure, fine. Just say yes, and I’ll answer anything you want to know.”

“Fuck that,” Dean said. “You’ll give me the answers before I commit to anything.”

Zachariah darkened. “Oh, Dean. You know we can’t trust you like that.”

Dean climbed to his feet, faced Zachariah. “And I can’t trust you. So what’s it going to be, then?”

Zachariah studied him carefully. He knew this was the closest he had gotten to Dean saying yes. Or even listening. He couldn’t ruin it now. “Just one.”

“One question, but expanded. None of this semantics bullshit. I’m getting all the details. On one issue.”

Zachariah considered, feigned disagreement, and then shrugged. Why not.

Dean was careful about choosing his next words: “Am I cursed by Heaven?”

Zachariah barked out a sharp, joy-less laugh. “What in Christ’s name is that supposed to mean? I don’t think you get how Heaven works, Dean.”

“Shove off, Zachariah. I want to know: was I responsible for what I did to Castiel.”

“For the most part.” Zachariah waved his hand aside. Dean started towards him, so Zachariah quickly continued. “We might have given you a push.”

“You – pushed me – to rape him?” Dean asked in a low, dangerous voice.

Zachariah gave a loud, dramatic sigh. “Not 'rape' him,” he groaned, actually doing the air quotes. “All that desire – all that hatred – all of the feelings were you, Dean. The possessiveness… the darkness… You got a whole hell of a mess going on in there,” he gestured at Dean’s body. “We just used it to our benefit.”

Dean cursed, slammed his hand against the table, and then whirled around and punched Zachariah in the nose. Zachariah didn’t move, and Dean shrieked, howled with pain and slid down to his knees, fighting back tears. “You used me,” he sobbed. “You made me turn against my best friend.”

Zachariah heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, with the dramatics,” he muttered to himself. “I told you, it was all already in you. Ever since you met Castiel, the two of you have been drawn to each other like suicidial little Romeo and Juliet moths.” Dean looked up at him in horror – or confusion – and Zachariah brushed it away. “The metaphor got jumbled. The point is, it was all you. We just realized how effective you were in hurting Castiel – how much fun you got out of it – and put it to our use. Castiel needed to be punished.  Nothing else had worked before.  So we thought it might be most efficient to have you -” he chose his words carefully here - " _break_ him."

Dean stay kneeling, his head bowed, his entire body heaving for air. He gasped, choked down quick gulps of it, but it only made him feel more faint. He fell to the floor, trying to slow things down, trying to calm himself down. He couldn’t.

Zachariah walked around him with a steady foot. “It’s what you do, Dean,” he told him. “You do your job. And you do – a good job. You know how to use people, how to hurt people. It’s your role here. You’re a weapon for Heaven.”

“I would never hurt Sammy,” Dean cried. “Or Bobby. Or Jo, or Ellen…” he turned around, looking for Zachariah to argue with, but he was gone. Dean choked back a sob and held his head down to the floor. It had changed to the tile of a bar. He looked up, and Sammy was on a stool, laughing drunkenly down at him and holding out a hand to help him up.

Dean let Sam take his hand and climbed to his feet. Sam passed him his beer, and laughed again. “Sit the fuck down,” he said, still chuckling. “You’re going to get your ass thrown out of here.”

Dean took the beer and watched Sammy, solemnly. Suddenly, with the reminder of the real world out there, his heaven wasn’t comforting anymore. “I need your help, Sammy,” he said. Sammy ignored him and raised two fingers to signal to the bartender. “Please tell me you wouldn’t believe this about me.”

There was a whoosh behind him and Dean whirled around, angrier now, expecting to see Zachariah again.

But it was Cas, standing with his head down, already looking away from Dean, already bracing for confrontation.

Suddenly Dean’s anger morphed, metastasized, into something darker, needier. Dean bristled at the change in himself, self-aware but only enough to faintly think: _This is Odd_.

Cas looked up with those dark, guilty puppy dog eyes, and Dean’s fist was already clenching; but then he said: “Dean. I forgive you,” and Dean lunged forward, popping a right hook into Cas’ cheek, and Cas’ flesh responded, Cas himself crumpled and stumbled as his face went flying.

“YOU forgive ME?” Dean asked, taking Cas’ trench coat in his hands and pushing him violently across the bar. Cas fell heavily against a table. The people sitting there didn’t even pause their conversation.

Dean felt a sick sense of déjà vu; knew that he should stop himself; but instead he advanced on Cas. “Why did you let me?” he screamed. “You ruined both of us. You could have stopped it. You were supposed to be the stronger one.”

“But I’m not,” Cas said meekly, not even trying to raise himself up. He lay halfway across the table. “Not with you. I will always do what you say. And I can’t change that.”

Dean glowered down at him.  Suicidal Romeo and Juliet Moths.  He raised Cas up by the lapel and glared, deep into his eyes.  "You're mine," he repeated over and over again.

Cas nodded, quick, _I am,  I am_ , repeating just as quick.

 And then Cas looked up, as if begging for forgiveness, and pleaded: Dean. You _have_ to say no to Michael.

Dean, realizing, or thinking, that Cas had been fooling him, howled and threw Cas across the table and onto the floor.  He ran to him and kicked him in the head, the ribs, stomped on his stomach and groin and all of his squishy parts.  Dean was rage personified.

And Heaven had compelled it.

Zachariah appeared, looking at least a little concerned that an ex-angel may be being murdered in Heaven by the Chosen one.  He touched Dean's shoulder and Dean whirled around, his pupils blown, his chest heaving with each breath.

"You were supposed to say yes to Michael," Zachariah explained.  Cas, on the floor, curled into himself; he hadn't hurt nearly enough, he knew, for what he had done.  "Cas was earning his wings back by pursuading you."

"Was he?"  Dean stopped, smirked, and then swiveled his head down to look at Cas. "You were playing me, then?"  He asked, and gave another swift kick right into Cas' face.  Cas yelled, cried out, and covered his eye.  Blood was already pooling down his shirt, and every move he made seemed to be one step away from killing him.

Dean would have to make sure to be more careful when he hurt him in the future.  Thing was so fragile it was likely to die out at any moment.  He would have fun finding the balance.

"Oh, I'll say yes to Michael, all right," Dean said, stepping on Cas' hand and grinding it into the floor with his boot.  "On one condition.  Instead of returning Cas' angel-ness... Cas' grace... to him..."  He turned and grinned at Zachariah.  "You give it to me."


	12. The Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And he didn’t know which made him more uncomfortable – Lucifer’s gaze or Gabriel’s glower.

Sam woke up to someone grabbing his arms roughly, knees pressing down on his forearms and holding him down. He shifted uncomfortably; it was too strong – too aggressive – for Cas.

He blinked his eyes open to see Lucifer above him, stradding his torso and sneering down at him.

“Oh, shit,” he gasped, wriggling underneath Lucifer. The fallen angel only seemed amused by this, pressing down firmly into Sam’s hips and moving against him. Sam stopped immediately. Lucifer smirked at him, leaned forward and caressed his cheek. “Good boy,” he murmured, looking Sam up and down in an intrusive way. “God,” he breathed. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

“That’s enough, Lucie,” Gabe’s voice, more welcome than Sam had ever known, came from beside them. Sam turned to see Gabe sitting in a chair, head bowed over steepled fingers. Even as he seemed to defend Sam, though, he glowered down in a dark way that was almost more unsettling than Lucifer on top of him.

And then Sam remembered – “Cas,” he breathed to Gabe.

“Yes.” Gabe responded. “Cas. Where is Cas, Sam?”

Sam looked at him, mouth agape. He wrinkled his brow, only fainting remembering now, Cas warm in his arms, and whispering something just as Sam fell asleep.

“He went to Dean,” he said as realization dawned on him.

“Yes.” Gabe stood up, shook his head in anger, and walked across the room. Sam tried to follow him with his eyes, but Lucifer was in the way, still looking down at him with a vague smile, head cocked, mouth open and hungry. “Yes,” Gabe said again, “the one place I told him not to go. The reason I wanted him to stay with a Goddess to keep him safe. But he,” Gabe turned and glared at Sam. “He insisted on staying with you.”

“Don’t blame him, brother,” Lucifer said. “Sam is pretty hard to resist.”

“Oh, I’m not blaming him. I’m placing this squarely on Sam’s shoulders.”

Sam shifted again, trying to get feeling back in his arms. Lucifer smiled and pressed down on him harder. “I didn’t know –“ he whispered. “He snuck out –“

“Yes, Cas is a fuck up. Cas will, and always will, fuck up.” Gabe sat on the bed beside the two men and pressed his face into his hands.

“It’s not their fault,” Lucifer said, almost gently. “Sam here is tainted. Or – what’s a nicer word for tainted? Tainted. With Cas’ angel blood.”

“Cas is not an angel anymore,” Gabriel snapped.

“He was,” Lucifer answered smoothly, still gazing upon Sam like a lab experiment, trailing a finger down his cheek and across his jaw. “Dean took away most of his grace. But there was just a little bit left. A little bit left for Sam.”

“I didn’t turn him Human,” Sam denied angrily.

“No. He gave it to you.” Lucifer smiled quietly. “Cas gave you the last of his grace. To heal you.”

Gabe watched them both quietly. Lucifer trailed his finger down Sam’s throat, stopping at the dip in his jugular. “That’s why Sam’s committed,” Gabe realized.

“Just as committed as Cas is to that jackass brother,” Lucifer nodded. “It’s such a gorgeous love triangle.”

Sam struggled, harder now, hot tears burning at his eyes. He couldn’t bear it if he was the reason Cas had fallen. If that was the only reason he was so loyal to Cas now. If Dean was controlled by Heaven – if Sam was controlled by the last of Cas’ grace – who was to say what free will was, at all? He pushed, hard, against Lucifer sitting on him, and Lucifer smiled, bucking up for the ride, and gently held Sam’s throat and pressed his thumb into the curve of his neck.  
  
“That’s enough,” Gabe said, giving Lucifer a strong push. Lucifer actually responded to the touch, sidled off of Sam for a second, before sliding back on. He pushed Gabe back.

Gabe smacked him on the back of his head and then grabbed his collar, pushing him back, off of Sam. “We’ve got to focus on what’s important here,” he growled, holding Lucie down at the foot of the bed. Lucifer snickered inappropriately. Sam pulled his legs out from underneath the two angels and cowered against the headboard. “We’ve got to get Cas back, and we’ve got to stop Dean.”

“So which one of us is going to Heaven?” Lucifer asked in mock confusion. “This is just getting more and more interesting.”

“You know neither of us can,” Gabe said in a huff, pulling off of Lucie and dusting himself off. They both turned to face Sam now.

Sam swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. This was too much, too early. He needed coffee. He needed to pee. He needed to put some pants on.

He needed Cas.

And he didn’t know which made him more uncomfortable – Lucifer’s gaze or Gabriel’s glower.

“What are you going to do?” he stuttered. “Kill me?”

Lucifer nodded, while Gabriel shook his head. “Try Cas first,” he said miserably. “Maybe he earned his wings back already.”

Sam nodded, confused, looked at Lucifer uncomfortably, and then turned back to Gabriel. “So wait – we’re on Lucifer’s side now?”

Lucifer looked indignant but Gabriel moved closer to Sam and took his hand. “I know it doesn’t sound cool,” he said, ignoring the snorts from behind him. “But I spoke to Lucifer and we’ve got a deal. It’s not perfect, but it’s a hell of a lot better than Heaven.”

“What’s the deal?” Sam asked stiffly. He looked deep into Gabriel’s eyes, wanting to trust him. It was pretty bad when Gabriel was the more trustworthy of his companions. But what could he do? Cas and Dean were both gone.

“Apocalypse happens – the self-righteous go to Heaven. Obviously. Lucifer will take the sinners to hell – and the rest of us keep Earth. It’s the best we can do. Actually, it’s better than I thought.”

“I’m nothing if not generous,” Lucifer scoffed. “Plus, it was never about winning Earth. It was just about winning against fucking Heaven.”

“Fucking Heaven,” Gabe repeated, with a sigh. He didn’t look completely happy.

“Can I trust you?” Sam whispered.

Gabe’s eyes shot up. “Of course, Sammy,” he said. “I know I’ve been an ass before. But I’ve never gone dark-side. I want Cas back. I want what’s best for humanity. I always have.”

Sam clutched Gabe’s hand and smiled shakily. “Okay,” he sighed. His eyes darted over to Lucifer. “Can you protect me from him?”

“Lucie?” Gabe shrugged. “He’s harmless.”

Behind him, Lucifer licked his lips and smiled at Sam.

Sam looked at Gabe with raised eyebrows. Gabe snickered. “He’s just fucking with you.  You'll be fine. ” He let Sam’s hand go and started to get up, and then paused. “But Sam,” he added quietly. “Things might get rough. There may come a time when we do need you… to fight Michael. To let Lucifer in.”

Sam swallowed thickly. “But it will always be my choice, right?”

“Always,” Gabe promised.

Behind him, Lucifer smiled, a wide, Cheshire-smile, and watched Sammy.

*

It wasn't the most uncomfortable he'd ever been, on his knees and praying to a man he loved, in front of two fallen angels. 

No wait.  It was. 

Sam prayed to Cas not knowing if he wanted an answer or not.  For Cas to be okay meant that his brother wasn't.

So it was with a great surprise that the three watched not Cas appear, but Dean. 

"Dean!" Gabe growled, springing to his feet and charging towards him.  Sam was lifting up an arm, weakly protesting it,  when Dean flicked his wrist and both angels disappeared. 

Sams jaw dropped,  and his legs gave way. 

Dean turned to Sam with narrowed, proud eyes.  "I did that," he said. "I just banished two  _archangels_."

"Dean," Sam said tentatively.  "Where's Cas?"

"Not only am I an angel," Dean continued to himself. "But I'm the fucking  _chosen one._ "

"Dean," Sam pleaded,  scrambling to his knees and clutching Dean's legs. "Please, listen to me.  You're better than this.  Please, talk to me."

Dean gave Sam a withering glance and then firmly pushed a foot into Sam's chest, forcing him down.

"Heaven is using you," Sam continued, even after Dean had pushed him on his back, and pressed a foot squarely in the center of his chest. "This isn't you, Dean."

"That's not what you've been telling Cas all this time," Dean said coldly. 

The wind went out of Sam. He stuttered.  "You're dangerous," he admitted.  "You're. .. broken, right now.  But you can fight this,  Dean."

"So where were you?  When I was trying to fight this?"

"I fucked up,  okay?  I should have helped.  But Dean,  you were _scary_. You were _gone_.  You hurt Cas. I made a decision to protect him."

"Yes," Dean ruminated. "Protect him. Why this sudden interest in Cas, Sam?" He peered down at him.  "You have his blood in you.  You were the one who drank him down.  Who made him human.  All this time, you've had so much fun playing the good brother.  How does it feel to know you were still wrong, all along?  Still the fuck-up brother. The one aligned with Hell."

"Dean,  look at yourself. Look at what you've done, what you're doing.  Can you really feel righteous here?"

 Dean sighed;  lifted his foot from Sam's chest.  "Cas will pay for helping you," he said. "You're getting off easy today. But trust me: Cas is mine.  And if you continue to pursue either one of us... next time, we won't be leaving on such good terms."

And with that, he was gone. 


	13. Sometimes We Get Too Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming to the tail end....  
> If anyone's still here with me...

Gabe found Sam collapsed on the floor, his forehead pressed against one knee. He appeared, began to announce his appearance, but then stopped. Instead, he knelt down behind Sam and put his hand on his shoulder.

Sam jumped, pulled his arm back quickly. “Whoa, it’s just me,” Gabe said, pulling back just as quickly. Sam looked at him with narrowed eyes, surveyed the room.

“Where’s Lucifer?” He asked huskily.

“I told him to stay away. For now.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for bringing him earlier.” Sam turned away from Gabe.

Gabe sat back, watched Sam. “That wasn’t the best wake-up call, was it?”

Sam glowered at the ground, refusing to look at Gabe.

“I’m sorry. I was pissed about Cas.” Gabe shrugged. “Call it being an overprotective brother.”

“Call it being a dick.”

“Eh… one and the same.” Gabe laughed to himself. Sam sighed and stood up, pressing his fingers against his temple.

“Dean is gone,” he said hollowly. “He’s an angel somehow, and he’s… he’s completely gone.”

Gabe sobered up at that. He nodded absent-mindedly. “Yeah.” He said. “So.”

“So what?”

“He’s said yes to Michael. And he’s somehow obtained Cas’ grace. There is no other way to do this. You’re going to have to say yes to Lucifer.”

“Like Hell I am,” Sam dropped his arms and strode off to the bathroom, splashing water on his face. Gabe followed him.

“You said you understood – it might come to this.”

“And you said it would always be my choice,” Sam snapped.

They came to an impasse. Sam turned around and crossed his arms, glaring at Gabe. His eyes were bloodshot and teary.

Gabe started to speak, but then stopped. Instead, he reached forward and plunged his hand into Sam’s chest. Sam gave out a shout, tried to put out his hands but then jolted backwards. Gabe pulled out a tiny sliver of a glowing brightness.

Sam fell over, coughing, and watched Gabe consider the grace, and then put it in a disposable coffee cup on the counter. He awkwardly put the plastic lid on.

“What was that?” Sam asked, even though he knew.

“Cas’ grace,” Gabe answered simply, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Wh – why?”

Gabe shrugged. “You seemed sad about Cas. I thought it might make you feel better.” Sam narrowed his eyes. Gabe sighed. “And, if you want free will, maybe you shouldn’t be connected like that.”

Sam considered the glowing coffee cup on the motel counter. It looked so undignified. At least they could get a reusable Starbucks cup with a fitted lid or something.

“Feel better?” Gabe asked hopefully.

Sam thought about it. Dean had violently – brutally – assaulted Cas. Sam had turned his back on his brother. Sam and Cas had had a great escape together, and then at the end of it, Cas had returned to Dean. Dean had stolen Cas’ grace – or the majority of it.  
Nope, he thought with a strange realization. It didn’t make him feel any better. He felt sick, jealous, betrayed, and worried for Cas’ well-being. He also felt…

He didn’t want to admit it. But he felt a little… heart-broken.

“No,” he said to Gabe. “I don’t feel better at all.”

“Well,” Gabe said. “At least you have your free will!”

"And I still don't want to say Yes to Lucifer."

Gabe sighed heavily, and leaned against the shelf.  He watched Sam with narrowed eyes.  Sam held up to it, stony-faced.  He was so tired. 

"Listen," Gabe said.  "I know you don't want to give yourself to Lucifer.  But there's seriously no other way.  Dean has said yes to Michael, and -"

"We can try to talk to him," Sam said quickly. 

Gabe snorted. "You said it yourself.  He's gone.  Somewhere between Heaven, being around Cas, and having Cas' grace in him... he's beyond redemption now."

Sam shook his head. Cas had gone to him.  Cas had fucked this up.

"Cas was just trying to help," Gabe said. "In a weird way.  And of course it didn't work."

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Of course..." Sam stopped.  "Like he was doomed to fail."

Gabe opened his mouth to say  _Have you ever seen him succeed?_ but then he held his tongue.   Sam pushed past him and fell back on the bed.  Gabe followed.  

"The thing about Cas," Gabe said, "is two-pronged.  One, his ambition always exceeded his ability.  He tries - he really does - but he's fighting a war among archangels.  He's out of his league."

"What's the other thing?"  Sam asked, his voice muffled by the pillows.

"The other thing," Gabe continued, "is Dean."  Sam gritted his teeth.  Gabe sat down on the bed beside him.  "There are some times," he said gently, "when an angel... gets too close to their human charge.  For Cas, he  _rebelled_ for Dean and you.  He turned his back on Heaven.  So no matter what, he's loyal - to a fault - to Dean.  And for some reason he can't get it through his head, that this Dean is not worth that."

"Dean," Sam said. 

"What?"

"You said he rebelled for Dean and me.  You mean just Dean."

"No," Gabe considered.  "No, he was assigned to both of you."

"I'm an abomination."

" _Were_ ," Gabe said helpfully.  "And okay, so it was mostly to help Dean and protect the world against you.  But essentially, he was both of your angels."

"Then why did he choose Dean?"

Gabe was quiet.  "Because he's a jackass?"  Sam groaned.  "Okay, so a little more Dean."

"It will always be Dean."

"I honestly believe, in this case," Gabe tried again, "that Cas only returned to try to help.  To talk him out of saying yes to Michael."

Gabe watched as Sam pulled the covers over himself and smashed his face under the pillow.  They were no closer to him saying Lucifer after all of this.  

"I'll go if you want me to," he finally said.

Sam peered out from behind the pillow. "What?"

"I'll go to Heaven," Gabe said awkwardly.  "I'll try to pull Cas away.  Maybe without him, Dean will have more of a chance."

Sam let the pillow rest over his face again.  "But you can't go to Heaven."

Gabe patted the giant lump under the covers that was Sam.  "I'll just have to be fast," he said, standing up.  

"It's too dangerous," Sam finally sat up, pushing the pillows off of him.

Gabe gave a shrug. "I know," he said. "But it's like I said - sometimes we get too close, and we do stupid things."

And then he was gone.

*

 Gabe found himself in Heaven, beside a sleeping Cas.  He looked around, but there was no Dean.  Only a well-groomed garden with a white awning and pink and red roses flowing over. 

"Cas," he said, pushing Cas' arm.  Cas blinked and looked up. 

"Gabe," he said.  "How did you get here?"  

Neither were questions, but rather monotonous statements.  Gabe watched him, worried.  He noticed now the bruises on his face, the crusted blood covering his neck and spilling over onto his clothes.  Gabe winced, and then reached forward and healed Cas. 

Cas took a deep breath, and looked down at himself.  "Dean is coming," he said then.

"I know," Gabe said, grabbing Cas' hand. "We've got to go."

Cas pulled away.  "No," he said firmly. "I have to stay with Dean."

"Dean is dangerous," Gabe said.  "Partly because of you.  We've got to separate you. We've got to get him out of Heaven.  And we've got to get your grace out of him.  Maybe then we have a chance."

Cas shook his head. 

"You know this is wrong, right?  You're going to help him say yes to Michael?"

"I'll figure out something.  I'll stop him," Cas protested.

"Yes, you'll stop him by first getting the fuck away from him!" Gabe hissed. He realized belatedly that Cas might have gone to Dean with good intentions, but by now their strange magnetism had driven him astray as well.  "Jesus," Gabe groaned.  "The two of you get together and lose your damn minds. Come on," he reached forward.  "You're coming with me whether you like it or not," 

Cas flinched, pulled away, sudden fear in his eyes.  Gabe realized those might not have been the best words.  

And then Dean appeared and pulled him up. 

It wasn't right for a human to be stronger than an archangel.

Heaven wasn't playing fair. 

And Dean grinned down at Gabe.  "I'm glad you're here," he growled.  "There are a few people who've been waiting to see you."  And with that, he and Gabe both disappeared.  

Cas watched them go, feeling a strange twinge in his heart.  He felt like everything was falling apart, but he couldn't stop it. 

He had felt like this before.  With Dean in the Green Room, and Zachariah breathing down his neck.

And he had rebelled that time, he had taken control.  Because of Dean.

How was he supposed to do it a second time, without him?

He looked down at the grass and noticed a coffee cup sitting on the grass.  It was glowing inside. 

Gabe had brought him back a small part of his grace.

 *

Dean came back victorious.  He pulled Cas up and kissed him, and for a second Cas felt like everything was okay after all.

Then Dean pulled away and grabbed the coffee cup out of Cas' hands.  "What's this?" he asked.

Cas swallowed.  "Gabe dropped it," he said drily. 

Dean squinted at it.  "Ohh," he said.  "That bit of you that Sam took.  How kind."  he lowered his hand and looked steadily at Cas. "Were you going to tell me about this?"

Cas swayed on his two feet; tired and overwhelmed and confused.  "I just found it," he said dumbly, not able to respond to the question. 

Dean pushed him back and grabbed the front of his shirt.  Cas went limp and let Dean hold him.  "Were you going to give it to me?"

"I don't know," Cas finally said, honestly.  

Dean slammed his fist into the side of Cas' head.  "After all this time," Dean growled, "and you're still not loyal to me."

"I'm loyal," Cas whined. 

Dean gave him a shove and Cas felt against the bushes, awkwardly fumbling until he made it to the ground. 

Dean knelt beside him and took his hair in his hands, forced Cas to look at him. "Are you?" he said.  "How could I make you prove it?"

"Dean," Cas gasped. "I'm loyal enough to want to help you.  You're under a curse.  Heaven is using you.  This is not you."

"Yes," Dean nodded.  "Yes it is."

"It's not, Dean.  Think about it. You've said yes to  _Michael_.  This is not what you wanted.  You wanted free will.  You wanted to save people."

Dean leaned over Cas now, wrapping one hand around his throat. _"Stop talking._ " He swallowed.  "This is Heaven.  This _is_ the side of good, Cas. You're the one in the wrong.  Sam, is wrong.  Hanging out with his demons, with...  _Lucifer_.  He stole you from me,"

"I went with him."

And again, like always, it was the wrong thing to say.  Dean punched Cas in the nose, in the stomach, and then pushed forward and kissed him under the spilling blood, angry and dark and suddenly ravenous.

Cas wanted to stop him, wanted to say  _I'll let you fuck me, but let me let you_ but Dean wouldn't stop, pulling Cas to him roughly, pushing clothes down and biting Cas' lips, hungry and wanting and taking. 

Cas let go; stopped trying to make this a sweet moment, stopped trying to enjoy it.  Dean didn't want him to.  

He remembered those sweet moments with Sam, the simple kiss, the  _Is this Okay?_ he remembered  _Sam had stopped,_ and Sam had pulled away and looked at him and cared. 

He remembered feeling human. In a way that wasn't an insult, but a respect.

As Dean took over, Cas closed his eyes, and realized that he had completely fucked up.


	14. Stull Cemetery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they all meet again

Sam couldn’t wait anymore. He was restless, agitated, hopeless. Pacing around the room, he couldn’t wait any longer.

_Cas had gone to Dean._

_Gabe had inexplicably gone to Heaven._

_And no one had come back._

_Not even Lucifer._

Sam groaned and realized he was all alone.

He cleaned up, packed, and changed into fresh clothes. It was with a heavy heart that he pulled out the blue plaid shirt he had lent Cas that first night. He swallowed hard, but pulled it on (and totally didn’t sniff it like a creep.)

It smelled like Cas.

He knew shit was coming but he didn’t know what to do. So instead he made a pit stop at a home improvement store and stocked up, filling the back of Bobby’s truck with rope, zip ties, salt, crosses, anything else he could think of to replace the trunk of the Impala. And two 12 packs of beer.

It took him a while accumulating everything. Something was wrong in the world (and he knew what it was but he wouldn’t say it). The clouds were dark and churning, giving the day a strange greenish tint. People were arguing and fighting in the streets. Cars crashed and kept going and everyone gawked and took pictures at the bodies rolling out.

And there was no where for him to go.

He sat in the back of the truck in the parking lot of the motel, still too afraid to leave, and started drinking. He had to wait for Gabe to come back. For Cas to escape. For fuck’s sake, even Lucifer at this time – just someone to tell him what was going on.

Someone to stop that rumination in his head, something to stop those thoughts…

Cas had held him close and kissed him and then went back to Dean. Gabe said, _Sometimes we get close_ and went to Heaven. Dean with his foot on Sam’s chest, completely gone, and Sam’s heart was a cold stone weighing him down. He contemplating jumping into the motel pool but felt like he would just slowly sink down, down, and never get up.

He still considered it.

Someone appeared next to him and Sam jumped, dropping his beer. “Gabe-“ he almost said but then he saw it was Lucifer and his face fell.

Lucifer laughed. “Sam!” he exclaimed. “So happy to see you, too!”

Sam gritted his teeth and picked up the beer, which was pouring all over the truck bed, and tossed it out. Glass shattering; no one cared.

“Where’s Gabe?” he asked, although he knew the answer; had known it since Gabe hadn’t returned immediately.

Lucifer shrugged, sat back and stretched his arms around the back of the cab, behind Sam’s shoulders. Sam instinctively leaned forward, grabbed another beer, and scooted forward, out of Lucifer’s reach. Lucifer sniggered. “Your brother found him. Turned him into Michael,” Lucifer said casually, examining his nails. “He’s in the place where they put the bad angels,” he whispered. “Cas has been there.”

“Have you?”

Lucifer scoffed, insulted. “No. I’m not _bad.”_

Sam blinked back tears, and focused on scraping the label off of his beer bottle.  "What's gonna happen, Luc?" he asked, regretting the nickname but losing his voice halfway through.

Lucifer eyed him.  "You know what's going to happen.  Dean's said yes to Michael.  Michael's already starting things."

Sam shook his head.  "The Apocalypse was always you, Lucie.  You were the one bringing the Croats, causing mayhem."

"If you haven't noticed, things don't really work out the way they were told," Lucifer scoffed again.  "Heaven wanted this to happen.  Heaven is putting on the trying times now.  They want to see who is righteous, and... who is staying."

"And if you win?"

"I told you.  I made an agreement with Gabe.  If I win, Heaven will try to scoop up all the people they deem righteous, and shut the gates of Heaven.  All the scum will remain on Earth.  But now," Lucifer pointed a finger, wagged it at Sam, "I'm willing to take all of the sinners down to Hell with me.  Earth will remain... neutral."

"That easily?"

"Hmm?"

"How did Gabe convince you?  I thought your whole thing was jealousy of humans.  You want us all dead."

Lucifer shrugged.  "What I want," he said slowly, "is to make all the assholes pay.  All the sinners, all the evil people, down in hell, suffering. The rest of you," he shrugged.  "Now, the one thing I have a problem with is who Heaven deems 'righteous'." he added.  "That's why, as soon as I win, my demons are spreading out and bringing down as many Heaven-sent assholes as possible.  We've already started."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?  You know better than anyone that having Heaven's approval doesn't make you good."

Sam swallowed heavily.  "And Dean?"

Lucifer grinned.  "Another benefit of you saying yes to me.  I will leave Dean here. Under the promise that you will take care of him."

"He's my brother.  I'll always take care of him."  Lucifer smirked at Sam for a long moment until Sam sighed and agreed.  "Yes.  I will watch him and make sure he's under control."

"You think you can fix him."  Lucifer said.

"I think it will be easier if Heaven shuts its gates and leaves him the fuck alone."  Sam laid back against the side of the truck bed.  He took a long swig of his beer and tried to ready himself. 

"So you're going to let me?" Lucifer asked huskily, nodded towards Sam.  He couldn't suppress the look of thick desire. 

Sam swallowed sharply. "What do I have to do?"

"Well first," Lucifer gestured to the gallons of blood Sam hadn't noticed appearing at the foot of the bed.  "You have to get ready for me."

*

Cas knew when Michael came.  All of a sudden, Dean didn't look at him, didn't touch him.  He was smiling, talking, looking up at Michael with awe and admiration... and as sore as Cas was, it hurt. 

At least Dean before had wanted him.

And Sam had said _that's a toxic relationship_ and _love shouldn't make you feel like that_ and he was right - Cas knew he was right - but it still hurt that Dean stopped looking down at him, stopped saying his name.

"Are you ready?" Michael asked Dean and the two men faced each other and stared into each others' eyes. 

"Are we doing this already?" Dean asked, throatily, and Cas could almost detect a note of fear in his voice.

Michael snorted. "Why put it off any longer? Lucifer is down there with Sam, Dean. The world is already spiraling out of control.  Let's do this." Michael grabbed Dean's hand and stared into his eyes.  "Let me in."

Dean faltered; his eyes briefly stuttered on Cas. "And him?" he asked.

"Forget him.  You already have what you wanted from him.  His grace," Michael moved forward.  He was an inch away from Dean's face now.  "It's going the be the thing that gives us the edge.  With both of our powers combined, we will be unstoppable."

Dean hesitated, looking into Michael's eyes.  "To punish him," he finally said awkwardly.

"What?"

Dean nodded to Cas again.  "He started this.  He thought he could play with the big guys. Bring him. Make him watch.  See what he's done.  Show him he's powerless."

Michael finally turned and faced his little brother.  Cas, still on the ground, more broken now than ever.  He was still bleeding, his eye was bruised and puffing up, and something didn't feel right in his rib cage.  Gabe couldn't heal him again this time, and he doubted that either of these two were going to.

"Fine," Michael said dismissively, turning back to Dean.  "And you say -?"

"Yes," Dean breathed, nodding his assent.  "Yes."  Again, as if it were necessary, and then Cas closed his eyes and turned away as the two angels merged and burned into Dean's body.

They dumped Cas off at Stull Cemetery and disappeared without a word.  Cas gasped, tried to make himself comfortable, tried not to die as he waited for the end of the world.  Before he could give up, he fumbled with the pockets of his trench coat, pulling out the coffee cup and the knife he had somehow been allowed to keep.  Cutting across an old wound, he worked quickly to paint on the angel banishing sigil onto a flat rock, which he then flipped over.

He had laid down then, closed his eyes and tried to move into a position that didn't make him want to scream with the searing pain.  He felt a strange sense of calm come over him, as he embraced the darkness drawing over him, and he realized with a muted fright that he didn't even care where he went from here.  Either place seemed nightmarish enough; so he was content to appreciate this moment of dying, the brief respite before having to actually go.

But then he heard a car door slam, and voices arguing.

Lucifer's voice.

_Sam's voice._

Cas struggled up, took his time; he felt like he was a second away from falling, at any time, and he needed to get there; so he took it slowly, hobbled away from the clearing and deeper into the woods.

It took him longer than he would like to admit; and when the truck came into view, he could see Sam sitting on the edge of the truck bed, his head thrown back as he chugged a gallon of demon blood.

Cas felt sick.

"Faster," Lucifer said, raising the carton up and pushing Sam's head forward. 

Sam spluttered, choked, and pulled away, blood gushing out of the carton and pouring all over his face, and his clothes.  The blue plaid shirt Cas had worn once, Cas realized; now stained with blood.  Lucifer grinned, pulled open another carton, and pushed it into Sam's face. 

Sam growled and pushed the fallen angel away from him.  Lucifer laughed. "See, you're finally getting some strength," he said.  "But still not enough."  And he pushed Sam down, pressed him down onto the floor of the truck, and force-fed him the new blood.

Sam pushed and kicked underneath him, but Lucifer was unmovable.  Cas quickly hobbled-ran towards the two, shouting and angry, although he had no idea what he could do when he got there.  Lucifer looked up first - only because Sam was physically  unable to at the time - and laughed.  "Baby brother!" he said.  "You're alive!"  He pulled the carton away from Sam, who gasped for air and backed up into the truck.  Lucifer jumped out and held out his bloody arms to embrace Cas.

Cas shied away from them.  "What are you doing to him?" He asked, approaching Sam in the truck bed.

"Oh, that," Lucifer said. "He said yes to me.  I'm feeding him blood to make him stronger.  You know," he appeared behind Cas, too close really.  "So I don't break him."

Cas put his hand on Sam's foot, gently shook it to get his attention.  "Sam," he said in a soft, pained voice.

Sam was still gasping for air, staring at the sky as two streaks of tears cut through the blood and ran down either side of his face.  But as Cas spoke his name, he looked up, made a small cry, and then quickly climbed up and came to Cas.

"Cas," he said, scrambling to the edge of the truck bed as if he were going to hug him; but then he stopped, hesitated on the edge.  "What are you doing here?"

"Dean and Michael left me here," Cas said.  "They'll be back."

Sam finally looked Cas over and realized what condition he was in. "Lucie," he snapped, and Cas winced at the nickname. "What are you doing?  Heal him!"

Lucifer lazily looked Cas over.  "I don't really see the point," he said. "He's just going to get fucked up again.  Why keep healing him?  It's tiresome."

Sam turned to him abruptly with a dangerous look in his eye.  "Lucifer.  Heal him. Right now."

Cas was surprised that Lucifer responded, although it was with an indulgent smile, as if he really didn't have to.  All the same, he reached forward and touched Cas on the forehead, and for the third time in the last few days, Cas felt the parts of his body realign and readjust and his breath came back to him and he knew he would live.

"Sam," he said, begging, leaning into Sam and wanting to touch him, wipe the blood off his chin, pull him close.  He didn't.  "Sam, are you sure about this?  Sam, you have to know, I only went to talk him out of saying yes to Michael - I thought I could - I didn't mean to - Gabe was captured - "  There were too many things he wanted to say, and not enough time.  His words spilled into one another and he stumbled, lost. 

Sam smiled sadly.  "I know," he said, reaching forward and rubbing Cas' cheek affectionately.

"They're back," Lucifer said suddenly, looking into the forest.  "Or - he's back.  Sam, we have no more time."

Sam took the last half-empty bottle of blood and swallowed it deeply.  Then he nodded to Lucifer, said "C'mon then," and Lucifer grinned and

Cas looked away again, not wanting to see another Winchester brother taken by an angel.  Not able to watch the grace of an angel in his human form.

Sam... Lucifer... swung his legs down, wiped his chin, and grinned down at Cas.  Cas avoided his eyes, afraid, not wanting to see Sam-not-Sam. 

Lucifer grabbed Cas by the shoulders and leaned forward, pressed his lips against Cas'.  Cas sputtered, pulled away, ineffectively.  "What the hell, Luc?" he shouted.

Lucifer shrugged, grinned. "Only because I know he wanted to.  But was too scared."  Then he rolled his eyes back and Sam smiled sadly at him and leaned forward and kissed Cas again, but this time with a sweet, restrained hunger that Cas melted into, drank back.

Lucifer pulled away and nodded to the forest.  "Hide," he said, now business.  "I'll come around a different way."

And that was how Cas found himself hiding in the bushes, watching his two angel brothers approach each other in the bodies of the two brothers he loved; watching and waiting for someone to die, someone to win, and for the world to go down in flames.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just curious - what are your thoughts so far? I feel like I lost a lot of readers. Too plotty? Or wandering?   
> Suggestions, opinions, always appreciated.


	15. Swan Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> retcon - Cas left the coffee cup at the truck.  
> (Terrible planning, I know).

As Castiel watched, Lucifer and Michael circled each other, eyeing each other warily. His heart was pounding. He almost wished they would hurry up and get it over with.

“We don’t have to do this, brother.” Sam’s voice was deeper, stranger with Lucifer inhabiting his body. He held himself different, stronger.

“You know that we do,” Dean – Michael – growled back.

It worried Cas that he couldn’t see as much of a difference between those two.

“Don’t you realize? We’re being played. By an absent God, who has created me, who has sent you to punish me. We’re both unwilling pawns. Let’s stop playing.”

“I’m a good son,” Michael responded stonily.

“And I have done no wrong. I am an important balance to your world – to your goodness. We need the darkness leashed up, and I take care of that. Don’t you realize? _I’m on your side._ ”

“You can keep talking, Lucifer. None of it matters. I have been instructed by God to put you down. And that’s what I’m going to do.” And he said it so simply, with the confidence of a person who has never made a decision in their life.

Lucifer swore and looked down. Cas could see him stretching his fingers, anxious and irritated. “Humans may not be our equals,” he said under his breath. “But they’re not nearly as idiotically stubborn and loyal, either.”

“Maybe you have more in common with them than you’d like to admit,” Michael said crisply.

And Lucifer looked archly at Michael, his eyes darting over his face, as if surprised to find some sort of answer there. “Free will,” he said finally, nodding. “I was wrong. Humans were never the enemy.”

“Are we going to get started?” Michael drew his arms down, an angel blade shooting out of the arm of his coat. “Or did we come just to chat?”

“No,” Lucifer breathed. “By all means. Let’s begin.” He drew down his own sword, and they stared at each other for a moment.

And then they both charged.

Cas winced as the brothers grabbed each other, both trying to get a purchase with the knives. Michael caught Lucifer around the waist and brought him down; they both crashed into the dirt with a loud cracking sound, and the earth gave a shake that reached all the way to Castiel.   Michael laughed, knocked the knives out of both of their hands, and gave Lucifer a solid punch in the face. It was a strange thing to do; there were much more efficient ways to harm an angel. Until Cas realized; Michael knew he was going to win. He was just playing with Lucifer.

Lucifer pushed Michael off and sought the knife that had fallen out of his hand in the tumble; Michael stood and kicked Lucifer in the stomach, then laughed and kicked off, flying back into the air. Lucifer grabbed his knife and looked up, just as Michael shot a bolt of flame down at him. Lucifer ducked and the ground beside him burst into flames.  Michael shot another one and this one caught Lucifer in the leg, flying, as his flesh – Sam’s flesh – curled and burned under now-torn jeans. Lucifer fell to his knees, hissing, but finally found the angel blade on the ground beside him; and in a movement too fast for Cas (in his human form) to see, threw it at Michael, just past his arm,

And tearing into his right wing.

Michael howled, as Cas covered his ears and eyes, and fell to the ground with another powerful shake. Grace was pouring out of the wound in his wing. Lucifer scrambled up and straddled Michael, leaning forward and pressing his hand against his temple,

Trying, pulling, the rest of the grace from Dean’s body.

Michael convulsed for a second, and Cas held his breath; couldn’t believe, for a moment, that Lucifer had won. The blue light curled out of Michaels – Dean’s – eyes, and drew in wisps out of his body.

Lucifer looked just as surprised. He had relaxed, watching the grace remove itself. As if there was nothing else to worry about –

And then Michael’s arm moved, lightning quick, with one last breath of power, and slammed the angel blade into Lucifer’s arm.

Lucifer howled too, as he grabbed his arm and fell off of Michael. Michael’s grace zipped clean back into his body, and he grabbed the blade and strode to where Lucifer was laying, whimpering.

Michael had the angel blade. He wasn’t trying to expel, kill the angel, like Lucifer was doing; trying to retain the vessel.

He raised his hands above his head, aimed the blade for the center of Sam’s chest, and plunged it down.

Cas didn’t realize what was happening until it was already over; he had grabbed the flat rock and slammed his hand against the angel banishment sigil. Dean, hunched over Sam, paused, his arms mid-flight to stab him in the chest. But he paused, gasped, and the grace howled its way out of him. He wheezed, fell back.

Sam, on the ground, bleeding, hit by the fallen angel blade but not stabbed, convulsed, arched his back and screamed as Lucifer’s grace spiraled, soared out of his mouth. Then he coughed, and fell back, still.

Cas was up and running towards the brothers. He reached Dean first but stopped; hesitated over the still body, and looked to Sam. Sam was coughing and trying to sit up.

“Sam,” he said, tears burning his eyes, and he fell to his knees beside Sam and helped him up.

Sam was breathing heavy, shaking. Cas held onto his good arm, looking him over. “Are you okay?” he asked, though it was a stupid question. “Sam? Are you here with me?”

Sam, still wheezing, didn’t answer. Instead he pushed Cas on the shoulder and gestured to Dean. Cas followed his gaze and they watched Dean, lying on the ground now, begin to convulse, and shake.

“Fuck,” Sam whispered, clutching Cas’ arm tight. “What the fuck is happening, Cas?”

Cas just shook his head and watched, not knowing. They sat and watched Dean arch his back and howl and once again, a thin grace spiraled out of his body, hushed and angry, and dissipated into the air.

Sam looked at Cas. “What?” he asked, watching Cas’ face carefully; the steady eyes, the open, chapped lips.

“That was my grace,” Cas said. “It came out too.”

“Oh,” Sam looked back at Dean. “I guess we should have expected that.”

Cas didn’t say what he had truly expected; that Dean himself would have shot out of the cemetery, banished for the time being. Angels banished usually brought their vessels. But he supposed this was a unique situation.

“Sam,” Cas said, pulling away and backing away. Sam stood up as well, bracing himself as he saw Dean stir, begin to rise.

Dean didn’t seem to notice them at first. He coughed, rubbed his head, and pulled himself up to a sitting position. He looked around, blinking for a moment, until he saw Sam and stopped.

“Sam,” he said. His voice sounded throaty, as if a million different emotions swirled underneath. He spied Cas behind Sam, holding back, bracing himself but not fooling anyone; Cas was scared. “Cas,” he whispered.

“Dean,” Sam stepped forward, trying to block his view of Cas. “Dean, are you with us? Are you okay?”

Dean looked crestfallen; didn’t move to stand up, didn’t react to Sam’s somewhat aggressive approach. Instead, he looked at Sam for a full minute, not moving, not seeming to breath, only watching, and thinking.

And then his face crumpled and he choked back a sob, pushed his fists into his face and gasped.

“Dean,” Sam said and then he was beside his brother, arm on his back, all concern and love. Cas backed up further, to the treeline, and watched from a distance. “Dean, are you okay?”

Dean shook his head violently. “No, Sam,” he said. “I’m not. I’m not okay. What is wrong with me? This isn’t me. I swear… Sam,” he grabbed Sam’s shirt now, pulling him roughly, his eyes desperately searching for some answers. “Sam, I don’t want this, I don’t, I promise I don’t. But there is something inside of me… I can’t control. It’s so powerful, Sam, and I… I want to…” he closed his eyes, tears falling down his cheek as he bit his lip and choked. “There’s something evil in me. You have to stop me.”

Sam pulled Dean to him and hugged him tightly, as if he could restrain and love his brother back to health with just one strong enough hug. Dean held onto him and choked, sobbed.

“Cas,” Sam said suddenly, looking back. “Cas,” he said again, and Cas met his eyes, nodded, but didn’t move forward. “Get the rope. The zip ties. From the trunk.”

Cas disappeared and Sam pulled back, held Dean’s head in his palms and asked him, “will you let me? I’ll get you help. We’ll put you in the basement until we figure something out. I won’t abandon you. Again,” he said regretfully.

Dean shook his head, nodded, all at once. “Do it,” he said. “Please.”

Cas returned with both items – Sam was surprised he knew what zip ties were – and stood behind Sam as he took them out. Dean watched Cas carefully, his expression blank but pensive, and Cas avoided his eyes. Dean didn’t take offense; only continued to watch him, trace the outline of his body, his face. But he placed his hands together and let Sam tie them securely with a cord.

Sam had sat back, trying to restrain a sigh of relief as Dean sat, tied up, when Cas behind him made a strange coughing, sputtering noise, and fell to his knees.

“Cas?” Sam was beside him in a moment. Cas nodded, but held his head over, grabbing his throat,

Sam leaned over and Cas finally looked up and his eyes shone, completely white-blue.

Sam gasped, jumped back for a moment before realizing - Cas grabbed Sam’s hand, lurched over to grab Dean’s leg, and in a split second, transported them to the hedge where Cas had been hiding before. Sam and Dean both gasped at the sudden – slight – change of scenery, and then Cas pressed his fingers against both of their heads.

“You’re invisible to them,” he said in a low voice. “They’re coming back.”

Sam watched Cas in awe. It had been a while since he had seen him in power. He had gotten so used to him as a human; he watched Cas, standing and watching the clearing for Michael and Lucifer, with a sudden strength and hold over his vessel’s body –

It almost didn’t seem like the same man. And a small part of that – no matter how happy Sam was to know that Castiel was okay, Castiel was back – hurt.

Dean was watching Cas too, with an expression of jubilation. This was the Cas he knew and loved. The one that could put him in his place. The one that he couldn’t hurt. Dean felt sick then, thinking of all that had happened, how he felt he couldn’t be stopped, and hoped that it was over.

Cas nodded over to the clearing. “Close your eyes,” he said.

Sam and Dean quickly obeyed. “What’s happening?” Sam asked.

“They’re fighting again,” Cas said. “This time without your vessels.”

“They can do that? Why the fuck didn’t they do that to begin with?” Dean yelled.

Cas shrugged, then realized they couldn’t see him. “This is more dangerous,” he said simply.

He started then, and shifted on his feet; Sam sensed him moving away, and his hand shot out, grabbed him around the ankle. “Where are you going?” he asked, his eyes still closed, trusting.

“Lucifer can’t win this,” Castiel said. “Michael’s too strong.”

“And?”

“And I’m going to help.” Castiel moved again, hesitated, and then leaned over and pressed his lips firmly against Sam's forehead.  Then he was gone.  Sam cried out, too late to say anything meaningful, and covered his mouth.

Dean, beside him, eyes still shut; didn’t say anything.

There was a swift wind that overtook them, and then the howling of three voices clashing like sirens, inhuman screams that caused Sam and Dean to grab their ears and huddle away from the clearing. The ground swelled and shook and Sam grabbed Dean, held him close and the two brothers braced themselves, waited out the apocalypse

Together.


	16. Stopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes together in the end. 
> 
> Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This does NOT end in Destiel. If you REQUIRE Destiel: please stop reading. Please write an alternate ending or read another of the many fics that end in Destiel. By continuing to read, you accept this. 
> 
> Most of my other things actually *are* Destiel. This one just spiraled out of control and took a life of its own and so - this happened. If you like my writing but need Destiel, try one of my other fics, or send me a comment about what you'd like to see in the future. 
> 
> For those of you proceeding: Thanks for reading, guys. I know it's been winding, so thanks for staying with it.

After the earth stopped shaking, Dean and Sam continued to huddle behind the bush, terrified and holding onto one another for support, Sam’s good hand on Dean’s arm, Dean's carefully but firmly wrapped around the shoulder of Sam’s bleeding arm.

They were afraid to open their eyes, and see what was left of the world.

All Dean could think was: Cas’ vessel must have fallen when the angel left to fight, and if he opened his eyes, it would be laying there, empty, and it would have been his fault that things had led to this.

All Sam could think of was Cas’ grace, hurling towards the archangels, in a fight that was not his to fight, with enemies that were way out of his league.

And so they both kept their eyes closed.

But then there was the familiar whoosh, and when they opened their eyes it was Lucifer, back in Nick’s vessel, gasping and smiling and running in circles, leaping up and hollering like a fool. He hobbled a little, and seemed a bit disheveled despite his enthusiasm, but otherwise fine.

Dean’s eyes searched the landscape for Cas’ empty vessel, his heart beating loudly in his ears, whispering _don’t be – don’t be – don’t be –_

Thinking of the last time he saw him, before letting Michael in, of how he treated him, and feeling like retching.

Thinking, he had never gone to the lengths to save someone like he had saved Sammy; but if Cas was truly dead, Dean would fine some way to bring him back, no matter what it took.

Sam couldn’t think this far ahead. Sam was gasping, a sudden, hard emptiness falling deep into his chest, and he panicked, tried to breathe, tried to stand on his burnt leg, fell to his knees and gasped.

Lucifer stopped his dancing to look down on them witheringly. “What are you two so dramatic for?” he sighed. “Jesus, compared to you guys, the angels are a _blast_.”

“Where’s Cas?” Sam shouted suddenly, in a deep, choked voice. Dean looked at him in surprise, and then back to Lucifer, nodding adamantly.

“Oh,” Lucifer said, as if it had just occurred to him. He gestured with one hand and Cas appeared, leaning against a tree with his head thrown back and his chest heaving with breath.

“Cas!” Sam exclaimed, started to jump forward, and then faltered, hesitated on his knees. Dean just bowed his head and took a long, deep breath of relief.

Lucifer sighed, his dancing over. “Well,” he said, seeming discouraged. “I’m happy. But I guess the work is never done. Now - to kill some righteous ones before they can be saved!” He turned to the brothers and bowed deeply. “It was a honor.” He turned to Sam specifically. “I don’t think I could thank you enough for assisting me with my fight,” he said reverently.

Sam was still breathing hard, in pain. He paused, and eked out a faint, unsure smile. “Uh… you’re welcome.”

“And I definitely can’t thank you enough for all the masturbation fodder you’ve provided me with,” Lucifer laughed and dissipated into the air.

Sam reddened and Dean tried not to snicker.

Cas stood now, and stumbled over to them. Though obviously wounded, he once again held himself proudly, gracefully, the way he always had as an angel. The dynamics had shifted again; both of the brothers looked up to him, helplessly, waiting for him to tell them what to do, what was going to happen now.

Cas looked over both of them critically, with that objective eye that had always seemed so cold, so hurtful, to Sam. His eyes landed on Sam, who had suffered the worst damage, and he knelt down beside him. Sam shifted down to sit, and looked up at Cas' face as he leaned over him and pressed his hand onto Sam’s bleeding arm. Cas, focused, serious, didn’t return his gaze, and the healing pulsed through Sam’s arm, restoring the torn flesh, and making it whole again. Cas then touched his leg, and the skin morphed, reformed, and came together again.

Sam gasped in relief, quickly wiping the tears that pushed at his eyes. Cas stood and looked over Dean, and then walked away from them.

“I’m going to get Gabe,” he said, turning to them. “You should probably get to Bobby’s. One – or both – of you should probably be in the bunker.”

A second later, Dean and Sam found themselves sitting on the floor of the bunker. They didn’t get up right away – weren’t able to move – and only sat there, staring at the walls, the floor, the ceiling – of the familiar basement, as if surprised it still existed.

Surprised that anything still existed.

“You’ve got blood all over your mouth,” Dean said irritably.

“And?  You admitted you can’t control yourself,” Sam countered.  It was a weak shot, but so had been Dean's.

They both stared at each other for a long moment.

They were back at the beginning, both of their weaknesses exposed and raw.

"Hey," Sam reminded them.  "We just won the apocalypse.  Kind of.  I mean,  Lucifer did.  So I guess we should be happy?  I mean... heaven is full of dicks."

"We didn't win shit," Dean replied grumpily.

"That's true."  Sam sat back, cocked his head at an angle.  Dean squinted his eyes at him; it was such a Castiel-movement, that thoughtful twist of the neck.  Dean shook it off, wondered if he was only paranoid; willed himself to stop.  "But we were out of our league, right?  I mean, the important thing is, it was won."

"Did the right side win?"  Dean countered.

Sam looked at him steadily, suddenly seriously.  "Well, the wrong side sure as hell  _lost_."

Dean looked away, gritting his teeth.  Sam felt a tug at his heart, but steadied himself.  There was no reason to feel bad for this.  Dean was working through something. 

“I can’t lie, Sam,” he said. “I’m… scared. Ever since I’ve come back from Hell, ever since…” he didn’t say _Cas_. “I don’t know. I feel something deep inside of me, and it’s… it’s scary.”

Sam bit his lip. “Hey,” he said, suddenly softer. “Hey. Heaven is going to lock. Maybe that will… I don’t know, cut the cord?”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “Cas is back to being an angel, which always helps.”

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. Dean matched his look. “Say it,” he said firmly. Sam shook his head. Dean insisted: “ _Say it_.”

“What is it about Cas, man?” Sam asked, not wanting to meet Dean’s eyes. “What… why…”

Dean blinked and looked away as well. They were both sitting on the floor, bodies turned to each other and heads turned at strange angles to avoid each others’ gaze. They were a bit ridiculous. “Michael said it was power,” Dean finally said.

“Was that really all it was, though?”

Dean hesitated. “I don’t know. You know… I love Cas. As a friend - I care about him. But... it's also in another way. Like… like...”

“A dark, obsessive, possessive, scary way?”

Dean choked, laughed. He felt tears burn his eyes but he was sick of crying. “Yeah,” he said instead, tiredly. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“So what’s going to happen?” Sam said morosely.

Dean looked down, considered the zip ties as if they were suddenly very interesting. “I can't do it, man," he whispered.  "I can't be this person.  I don't know if it was Heaven or me... but it was definitely Cas-centric."

"What does that mean?"

"Even if I'm cured.  I can't be around him.  I can't hurt him again.  I can't trust myself around him...

“Not that he’d ever want to see me again, anyway," Dean added.

“He is an angel again,” Sam said, not knowing why he was trying to assuage this guilt of Dean's. “I mean, I think he’d forgive you.”

“I can’t,” Dean said, hollowly. He looked up at Sam with a haunted look; the same look he had when he had returned from Hell. “I mean it.  I can’t be this, Sam. An abuser. A torturer. I try so hard, Sam, and it keeps coming back to this. There’s something,” he choked, pressed his fist against his lips. Sam swallowed. “There’s something evil inside of me.”

“No,” Sam said, climbing up and sitting beside his brother. “You’re a good person. You wanted to save the world. You wanted to save everybody.”

“So what happened?”

Sam had never seen Dean so vulnerable, so lost. His big brother looked up to him looking for some kind of guidance.  Sam wished he wasn't covered in demon blood. He searched for something to say.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

“You’d turn your back on Cas?” Dean asked, looking down.

Sam floundered. “I mean – he’s an angel now. He’s probably going to go his own way.”

“You got close.”

Sam looked down too, not knowing what to say. “I wanted to be there for him as a friend.”

“You were,” Dean said reluctantly. “You really were.” He sighed. “I’m glad you were there for him. He needed you.”

*

They had restocked the bunker and Dean had locked Sam in.  The insane of amount of demon blood he had drank, in addition to Lucifer's use of his body, had left him weak and shaky.  Neither of them knew what the repercussions would be, but in the end Sam convinced Dean to lock him in the bunker.

"You trust me?"  Dean asked, only half-joking, in the doorway before he locked it behind him.

"Cas is an angel now," Sam said, laying back on the cot, not looking up.  Dean bit his lip, furrowed his brow, but didn't say anything about that not being an answer.

"Did you fix everything?" Bobby asked upstairs, in the kitchen.  He hadn't even seemed fazed when Dean appeared, dirty and bleeding and shouting for food and water. 

Dean looked at him as he poured himself a glass of water.  "Um.  I'm working on it," he grunted.

A second later, he choked on his water as Cas appeared.  He turned back to the sink, coughing and spitting, and Cas leaned forward and touched Bobby's legs, healing them. 

Bobby looked up at Cas in wonder. "You're an angel again," he said in awe.

"I know you were angry I couldn't before," Cas only answered.

Bobby stood up, bounced his legs, a huge smile on his face.  "I may have been a little out of line there.  To be fair, you had lost your powers dying by trying to help this jackass," jerking a thumb at Dean.

Dean held himself over the counter, not wanting to speak.  Cas only gave Bobby a tight smile and a nod.

Bobby seemed to get the idea. He tipped his hat at Cas, still grinning, and said "Thank you," before running out of the room like a young man again.

Dean and Cas stood in the kitchen, neither looking at each other, or speaking, for a full minute.

"Cas," Dean finally spoke, not turning from the counter.  "I know it's not enough.  Nothing will - ever be enough.  But..."  he thought for a moment, then turned to face him.  "I'm so sorry, Cas," he said, his voice wavering.  "I will - forever - be sorry."

Cas watched him carefully.  "Sit down," he said, gesturing to the seat across from him as he pulled out a chair.  Dean watched him warily but finally obeyed, sitting awkwardly at the table.  He felt like a child about to be scolded.  He felt faint, and nauseated, and didn't want to be here.

Cas surprised him, though.  He sat with his hands clasped together in front of him, staring down at his fists as he spoke, as if afraid to look Dean in the eyes.  This was a recurring theme between the three of them today.  "I once told you," Cas said, "that I was yours.  Not - not in heaven.  But... before."

Dean sat back, alarmed.  He couldn't respond.  He hadn't been expecting this, and didn't know where Cas was going with it. 

"And you asked me, back at the beginning, why I didn't leave.  Physically, I mean, I could have.  But.  I also couldn't."  Cas looked up at Dean now, with those haunted, lidded eyes.  He looked so strangely guilty.  In different circumstances, Dean would have hugged him.  "You were my charge.  Even after I rebelled - even after I thought I had free will - and yet it was still so tied in with you, it was all because of my belief in you... I couldn't, Dean.  I was connected.  I would have followed you to the end of the world.  I would have sat and let you murder me."

A cold shiver ran up Dean's spine at these words.  He must have known - he told himself, in a way he  _had_ known - but hearing it put in those words.  It was true.  It was too much.  Dean had known it.  And he had loved it.  

"I didn't deserve that much power," he whispered.  

"It was unfortunate," Cas agreed. "Too much to put on any one person."

Dean bit his lip.  "You were my friend, Cas," he said.  "You were my best friend, after Sam.  And yet - I don't know why - I don't know how I could have done the things..."  Cas was quiet.  "I ruined everything," Dean said miserably.

"Dean," Cas leaned forward and laid his hand on Dean's.  Dean started, pulled back, and Cas quickly retreated.  "You are fighting it," Cas told him.  "I believe that."

"It's not enough.  It will never be enough."

"Heaven is the most powerful enemy to have, Dean.  Or manipulator.  You were fighting a massive player, and you couldn't make it.  But I believe, deep down, that you are a good person.  And I forgive you."  Dean's eyes shot up, suddenly furious, ready to argue.  Cas held up his hand and continued.  "But..." and this he said almost sorrowfully:  "I am no longer your angel."

Dean bit his lip, nodded quickly, but he couldn't stop the spill of tears pouring out of his eyes.  He placed his head on the table, and Cas once again moved to reassure him, but he pulled his hands away.  "No," he said, his voice trembling.  He tried to stop the shaking, tried to speak firmly.  "I understand.  I agree," he said.  "This... thing, between us.  It's not good."

Cas sat quietly, watching Dean.  He wanted to say something; he wanted to make things better.  But the truth was the truth; and there was nothing else to say. 

"You're Sam's angel," Dean finally said, slow realization dawning on him.  He wanted to stay humble, he wanted to stay away; and yet he couldn't stop himself, needed to know.

"No," Cas said quickly, and Dean breathed.  "I'm no one's angel."  

He stood up then to leave, and Dean looked up at him sharply.  "Are you going to him?"

Cas was pulled back, about to flicker away - how many times did Dean need to tell him how infuriatingly rude that was? - but he hesitated.  "... no," he said.  Dean made a face.  "He needs time to purge.  I'm not sure he'd want to see me."

"Why the fuck would you say that?"

Cas stood dumbly, thinking.  "I went to you," he said finally.  "I left him."

"So?"

"So?  Do you know how mad you would be at me, if things were reversed?"

Dean sighed, put his face in his hands.  "Sam is not me," he said.  "Don't you get him yet?  He doesn't hold grudges.  He would want to see you.  You're his friend."

"I'm not sure..." Cas trailed off and Dean looked up at him, pushing for some response. "Things were weird.  I'm sure Sam was only trying to be a nice guy.  Or it was the grace."

"Grace?"

"I just mean to say, he probably doesn't need to see me."

"Dude." Dean clenched his fist, trying to stop the anger rising in him.  "God, I swear, you are such a fucking idiot sometimes."

Cas looked affronted.

"I'm sorry.  I'm trying to not be mean, or manipulative, or whatever.  But that's not what this is.  This is just... this is just truth, man.  I'm sorry.  You're powerful, and you're good, and you're smart sometimes, this is not to belittle you in any way... but really, sometimes you are an idiot.  

"Sam would want to see you.  He didn't do anything out of a sense of duty.  He did it because you're a friend, and he cares about you.  And after all he did for you, you can't avoid him now.  That would be..." Dean again held his tongue, trying to soften the blows.  "That would just be super shitty of you, man.  If you care about Sam at all, you'll go to him."

Cas was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking down, taking all of this in.  He nodded then.  "Okay," he whispered, and disappeared. 

Dean pulled his hands out from underneath the table, and spread them out in front of him.  On both palms, four red half-moons filled with blood, from where his nails had pressed in.

He sighed and laid his head back in his chair. 

*

In the bunker, Sam was kneeling in a pool of blood.  He choked, lurched forward, and spewed out another gallon, on his hands now, his entire body shuddering and shaking. 

Cas appeared behind him, and gasped, jarred by the scene.  He knelt forward, behind Sam, and placed his hand on his back.

Sam whirled around, falling as he scrambled to get away.  His eyes were terrified; the only part of his face not covered in blood, his hands and knees and shirt all covered.  He looked half alive.

And Cas wondered, for the second time, why he was crying.  He had come to understand it as a human - feeling brittle and shaky and small, like the entire world was falling down upon him.  But it didn't make sense here.

"Sam," he said, pained, and something about his voice stopped Sam, and he paused, shaking, and stared at Cas.  Cas took this opportunity to crawl to a seat beside him and pull out the torn coffee cup from his trenchcoat.  "Take this," he urged, pushing it to Sam's mouth.

Sam was frozen for a moment, watching Cas move as if he were under a spell.  But at this offer, he pulled away again.  "No," he whispered.  "I can't.  Cas, that's yours.  You need that."

Cas tried not to smile.  It was a completely inappropriate moment.  "Sam," he said.  "You are - by far - the most amazingly self-less and good human being I have ever met.  You are coming down from  _Lucifer_.  You are coming down from gallons of Demon Blood.  How are you going to say no to this?"

Sam put his head down, like a guilty dog.   Cas reached forward and gently took his chin, pulling his head up. "Please," he said, gently.  "Take it.  I -  _want_ \- you to have it."

 Sam hesitated, but finally opened his lips and let Cas pour the grace into his mouth.  As the swirling energy dripped down his throat, he closed his eyes, trying to stop the tear from falling down his cheek.  Cas sadly noted the tear, trailing a clear path through the bloodstained cheeks.  It was an image he didn't want to see of Sam again.  

Finally Sam lifted his head, breathing deep, his eyes lost and pained, but back to consciousness.  "Cas," he croaked, taking Cas' hand.  

Cas scrutinized him. "It's not enough," he said, shifting forward and pulling his arm out.  "You need more."

"No!" Sam pushed Cas' arm down.  "Stop, Cas."

"It's mine to give."  Sam and Cas stared each other down. Finally Cas waved his hand around and the blood was gone; Sam was clean and healthy again.  "Come on," he said, standing up, and offering Sam his hand.

Sam let Cas help him up, hobble to the bed.  He laid down heavily, feeling the weight of the past few days settle upon him.  Cas sat beside him and watched him quietly. 

"Thank you, Cas," Sam said, blinking hard.  "You didn't have to do that."

Cas put his hand on Sam's chest, realized it was awkward, but didn't pull it away.  "I wanted to, Sam." he said.  He wanted to look away, but he forced himself to stare at Sam as he said it.  "I care about you."

Sam forced a smile and looked away.  "I care about you too, Cas," he said.  He started to speak, stopped.  "I - I really do," he said finally, wondering. "I thought it was the grace - and then Gabe took it out."  He took Cas' hand in his.  "But it didn't go away."

Cas thought about it, watching the emotions flicker across Sam's face: hope, shyness, restraint, fear.  Finally Cas shook his head, laughing, and moved over Sam.  "I've been wanting to do this," he said, and he took Sam's face in his hands, and leaned in.

An inch away from lips, he stopped; searched Sam's eyes.  "Is this -?" he stopped.  "Is this okay?"

Sam nodded, tried to keep himself from crying.  "Of course," he said.  Cas broke out in a grin and bridged the gap, catching Sam's lips and hungrily kissing him, 

Both of them suddenly so desperate, so hungrily clinging onto one another, wanting to melt together as they pulled closer. 

"Can I -" Cas started, and Sam just nodded quickly,  yes, yes, and Cas kissed him again, this time releasing his grace, letting it curl and pulse into Sam.

Sam gasped, grasped Cas tighter, clenching his fists and then falling back,  limp, as Cas' grace entered him.  He felt shocks of electricity sear through his veins, and cried out, overcome with the beauty of Cas inside of him. 

It didn't last for long.  Cas retreated, shaking;  he hadn't planned on doing that;  and Sam lay back,  gasping for air, a blissful smile on his face.  "Fuck me,  Cas," he breathed.  He felt pure, he felt whole, he felt unimaginably happy. 

Cas pulled away, suddenly bashful.  "I'm sorry -" he started.

Sam grabbed his collar and pulled him back down.  "Don't be," he said with a grin,  and kissed Cas' cheek, his lips, his nose. 

Cas made a strange noise, like a childish giggle, and Sam pulled away, laughing to look at him in amazement. 

"I'm sorry," Cas said, still smiling goofily. "I just... I don't know.  I feel..."

"Happy?" Sam whispered. 

A light went on in Cas' eyes,  and he nodded quickly.  "That's it," he said in awe,  as if it were the craziest thing he'd ever thought of.  "I'm... _happy."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too sweet?   
> In an alternate version, Cas died, because you know... that's what he does.   
> But then I thought, these guys deserve some sweetness. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed if you read this far. Please let me know how I did. If you're disgruntled, give me some constructive criticism - I'm just starting out and could always use advice. And if you liked my writing but not the plot, I'm serious - give me some ideas. I promise I'll only get better as I go :)


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